


The Northmen's Wife

by kittykatknits



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And no one knows or cares, Angst, Arranged Marriage, But its not relevant, Canon-Typical Violence, Cousin Incest, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Half-Sibling Incest, Jon Snow is going down, Mostly cause I've always wanted to tag that, Multi, Pregnancy, R plus L equals J, Sibling Incest, Smut, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 21:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 77,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9142285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittykatknits/pseuds/kittykatknits
Summary: Sansa Stark always thought she would marry her golden prince as the songs promised. Instead, she will wed both of her brothers tomorrow.  The Stark words remind all three of the battle that will soon be upon them and it's a different kind of story that leads them to their destiny.--OR--I had an idea for an arranged marriage AU for the three of them and this reason made the most sense.





	1. The Night Before

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written fic before, not even a sentence so no clue what I'm doing here. But, I've got an idea, a few chapters worked out, and an ending.

Sansa rested by the fire in her solar, her needlework forgotten next to her. The voices in her head were too loud and interrupted every attempt to finish her embroidery work. She had meant to finish the piece before her wedding, three dire wolves giving each other chase, but it would have to wait. For once, stitch work failed to settle the worries plaguing her. Instead, Sansa rose and walked towards a nearby table where a flagon of Arbor red waited and poured herself a cup before returning to the fire.  _One cup before my wedding does not make me Tyrion._

Sansa had once dreamed of a marriage with a golden prince as the songs promised her.  That dream had died when her golden prince brought her the head of her father and called it mercy. She had survived Joffrey and Cersei, Littefinger's whispers of "daughter", a night sky lit with green fire, and a push out the moon door. She had survived it all and returned home, to Winterfell and her brothers. Now, a new threat rose and would take that away. Sansa could not let that happen.  _We can not let that happen._ She was the Lady of Winterfell, a princess. One brother was the King in the North and the other the former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and now a Hand. Their marriage would make their pack stronger, make them stronger. They had all agreed it was the right thing to do, it was necessary.

  _We will be Lannisters and Targaryans both yet I feel no guilt for that. "_ Should I feel guilt for not feeling it is wrong?", she whispered to herself before quietly laughing. Sansa worried about many things, feeding her people during the winter to come, the return of Bran and Arya, the many battles they would soon face, more worries that she could list. But, she did not worry whether the decision to marry Robb and Jon was the right one. She knew it was, deep in her bones, even if Sansa could not fully explain why. What could a single marriage matter in a world where the dead rise again?

Long ago, Sansa had once guessed that no one would ever marry her for love, it was a fear she has never spoken aloud. Doing so would be the final admittance that all the stories were lies, there were no heroes left in the world. In truth, though she could scarcely admit it to herself, Sansa secretly hoped that tomorrow would set her on a path to prove that old fear wrong.

_Enough._ _This arrangement is for the realm, not for you. Do not ever forget that._

Her cup now emptied, Sansa retired to her chambers and began to prepare for bed. 

 


	2. From the Beginning

Winterfell was still a ruin, it would be years before he could return it to what it once was. But, the forge was alive again, horses rested in the stables, and the sound of steel in the training yard never failed to make him smile. It meant comfort and the man who once again trained with him made this place home in a way nothing else had so far. Robb stood next to his brother, both smelling  of cold sweat and leather, restful after completing their daily sparring match. It had become an afternoon habit, maybe even a ritual, since they had been reunited just a few moons before. 

Robb remembered the day he first saw his brother Jon, he had not thought he would ever feel again a moment of happiness. Not after witnessing his mother slicing a fool's throat as madness seized her. He would always wonder if her death came as a punishment or a relief for her. Dacey Mormont, equally skilled at dancing and fighting, killed by a Frey's long axe. The Smalljon, a giant of a man, beheaded after throwing a table over Robb. And Jeyne, his sweet wife. He had planned to keep her at Riverrun to avoid giving further insult to the Freys. But, she did not want to part from him and he had relented in the end.  _ I may as well have killed her myself.  _

At times, Robb can scarcely recall how he managed to escape that horror of a wedding. The memories stay with him as a series of individual moments, sharp and painful, like the prick of a blade against his skin. It was that table that saved his life, gave him a chance to run and escape in the slaughter's early chaos. Somehow, he had found himself outside the castle and managed to gather a scarce few Northmen to his side before fleeing into the night, away from The Twins. It was his uncle, the Blackfish and Galbert Glover who helped carry him away, later tying him to his horse.  In the end, Robb left his soldiers, his bannermen, men who had sworn themselves to him, crowned him a king, and fought by his side behind, to their fate. He ran while his men were murdered. Robb still felt sick over the shame of it. His father would not have run, he would have stayed with his men, he would have fought. 

They rode north, to The Neck and Greywater Watch. Already weakened by the Crannogmen’s poison, the Ironborn were easily defeated at Moat Cailin and Robb began to prepare for the march home, to Winterfell. That was when Jon found him.

“Your strength has fully returned.”

Robb nodded in acknowledgement. He had been injured that night, receiving three arrow shots before his escape. “Aye. I’m sure Walder Frey would be disappointed to hear that. Perhaps I will send him a raven.”

Jon’s returning laugh, uttered so seldom, was good to hear. For a moment, he let himself think of their youth, green boys pretending to be Aemon the Dragonknight or The Young Dragon. 

“Have you thought on my request?” Robb asked, glancing at his brother. 

“I have.”

“And…?”

“I have no armies or lands. No titles. Would you rather not ask one of your bannermen? Perhaps Lord Manderly? He has a navy, silver, and the largest city in the North.”

“Seems he is already a busy man. If you do not want to accept the position, I would not force you. I'm no Robert.” Robb remembered what his mother told him, King Robert had left his father little ability to refuse the offer of the handship. 

Jon frowned. “That's not it. The last time I led men….” He stopped on a sigh, unable to continue. 

“...will never happen again.” Robb finished for him.  _ I need him. I can not do this alone.  _

After a moment, Robb tried again. “We both know what is coming, you witnessed it yourself. As my hand, you would be speaking with the king’s voice, with the king’s authority. We were raised together, taught arms and lordship together. We were meant to serve together from the beginning and I trust you as I do no other. You are my brother just as I am yours. Likely, we are all that is left of our family.” He would not beg, it would only add to Jon’s discomfort.

At that, his brother raised his head and met his gaze, eyes no longer downcast. Robb looked at Jon’s dark hair and solemn grey eyes.  His long face was partially hidden by a dark beard but there was no doubting he was a Northman, no doubting where he belonged.  _ He looks more like a Stark than I ever have. I could almost think our father has come back to us.  _

Finally, after an almost too long pause, Jon gave a soft sigh and nod. “Alright, I will accept. I never intended to refuse you, not truly. But I think you already knew that.”

Robb did not actually, but would not give voice to that fear. 

“My first act as hand is to tell you we should never have left Winterfell. I would advise you to issue an edict forbidding us to do so again.”  

It was an obvious attempt to keep the conversation away from topics Jon did not wish to discuss but Robb found himself laughing in spite of it. 

“I'll take my lord hand’s suggestion under advisement. Will you meet me in my study after washing up and a change of clothing? We can share a cup of ale in celebration before I ruin the rest of your day by making you run my kingdom for me.” He knew Jon would rather have spent the rest of the day in the training yard, guiding the new recruits, more of whom seemed to appear with every passing day.  _ More proof that winter would soon be here. They seek the security of Winterfell. _ Robb worried over that, the North was not at all as prepared as it should have been. One day, a day not nearly far enough away, children will be crying from hunger and the old men will leave the security of their homes for a final hunt. It was just one more sin that lay on Robb’s conscience. 

_ And Bran and little Rickon, Sansa, and Arya…. _

Since returning home, Jon had naturally taken to the role of master at arms and had been serving unofficially since. He felt more comfortable swinging a blade than he did a pen.  _ Well, he can find the time to be my hand too.  _ Robb knew that was an unfair thought but could not help himself. He did not have nearly enough experienced fighting men as either of them would wish. 

They had taken less than twenty steps towards the main keep, Ghost and Grey Wind a silent presence behind them, when his squire approached. “Excuse me your grace, I was just told there are riders approaching the gate.”

“How many?” Robb felt a brief moment of alarm. 

“Three, your grace. One appears to be a woman.”

Robb felt himself relax at that and saw the same tension leave Jon’s face as well. A messenger from The Cerwyns no doubt. It was too soon to hear from Manderly, and he would likely make a grander entrance than three riders. A raven would be faster besides. 

“You can go on if you’d like Robb. I'll see to them. It's only a few and one is a woman. I don't expect we will be marching to battle in the next hour at least.”  He was referring to the men, former soldiers, who had been left behind after the war. In some cases, the lord they had served was dead but in many, far too many, the men did not want to go back home. Jon had taken the opportunity to provide some support to his former brothers at the wall. Most had been directed to take service with the local liege lord, providing needed strength to the Tallharts, Umbers, and more who had lost so many fighting men. Those accused of a crime were given a choice, the wall or the sword. Robb did not like to reflect on the men who chose death, their reasons may have been to close to his own thoughts. He hoped Jon took some comfort in knowing he could help replenish the watch’s badly depleted ranks.  _ What the wall needs, more rapists and murderers.  _

He hated this part of lordship even more than Jon. Robb had no patience for the ceremony required to greet guests or the entertainments they always seemed to expect. Too many seemed to bring their daughters with them, all unmarried. The practice started less than a moon after he lost Jeyne. He suspected many of the lords would be almost as pleased if Jon took one to wife, his influence with their king was well known.  _ Jon is the hand now, he can find us someone to handle these fucking pleasantries.  _

Robb opened his mouth to accept when he suddenly noticed their wolves' growing agitation. Grey Wind and Ghost had been content to follow the two of them all day but it was as if he and Jon were suddenly not there. The wolves began to run towards the gate and then to them, back and forth, seemingly in a never-ending circle. 

“Ghost, to me!” Jon ordered but the wolf did not seem to hear him. Robb could see the look of shock on his brother’s face, Ghost was even better trained than Grey Wind. 

Robb could do nothing but stare in shock as the two wolves suddenly ran through the gate and away from the protective walls of Winterfell. A shiver ran through him, his stomach tightened as the realization hit him. It was excitement that made them run. He could almost feel Grey Wind’s joy and knew Jon most likely experienced the very same emotion.  _ They want us to join them, they want us to follow.  _

Jon and Robb looked at each other for a long moment, then, summoning his voice, Robb finally answered his brother, “No, I believe I will stay here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Robb has issues.
> 
> Anyone want to guess who's coming to dinner?


	3. The Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sooo sorry about Robb. Hopefully this chapter is at least a little better.

Jon was tired. No amount of rest ever seemed to make a difference, the weariness was a constant ache he felt in his bones, a presence that hadn’t the courtesy to leave him since the red witch brought him back. And now, he found himself agreeing to serve as Hand of the King. That would not help. But, Robb was right, they should have stayed together from the beginning. It was likely his brother was all the family Jon had left in the world. They had become even closer than they had as children. Even so, there were many topics they avoided discussing, preferring to keep them buried.

Their afternoon time in the training yard was always the best part of his day. Neither he nor Robb had missed a session since his brother first picked up a sword again after being injured. He loved every moment, the feel of the  pommel against his calloused hands, the return of Robb’s carefree smile, the smile he wore before the heavy weight of kingship and ruling fell on his shoulders. Jon understood his brother’s pain, only he had been left alone to bleed out in the snow. It was blood magic that brought him back. Blood magic and the screams of an innocent child.

He had heard their whispers when he would walk past, he knew what his black brothers called him. _Skinchanger, warg, traitor, turncloak, bastard, and worse. I didn’t think they would kill me though._ After his resurrection, they added monster to the list and cast him out of the Night’s Watch. They called him a monster, the free folk called him a god, but the men of the North just gazed at him in an unsettling blend of fear mixed with awe but said nothing. Sometimes he wondered what his mother would have called him. _Did my mother even know I was murdered? Would she care?_ It never occurred to him to wonder the same about the Lady Catelyn. Some questions are best left unasked.

He almost ran away, leaving the Seven Kingdoms behind forever. Jon thought to go someplace warm, Braavos maybe, a place as different from The Wall as he could imagine. It was Melisandre and her flames that turned his steps to Robb instead although he could not say why, he had little faith in her words. Not after a girl in grey and Mance’s torture, poor Jeyne Poole dead in a snowy wood having never made it to Castle Black. _Wolves in the cold...kissed by fire...you know nothing, Jon Snow…_ After that, he travelled as if under a compulsion. Jon even heard it in the trees of the Wolfswood, the leaves moving in the wind, their whispers a tickle against his ears _...south...south...Robb...south...south_. His brother was pulling at him, Jon needed to find Robb. Ghost felt it too, Grey Wind was calling to his wolf brother, Jon heard the wolves every night in his dreams, their howls seeming to grow louder as the days wore on. So he rode, pushing his horse as much as he dared, past Last Hearth and Long Lake, avoiding Dreadfort lands, past Winterfell, and on to Moat Cailin. There, he found Robb and the trees finally ceased their whispers.

It was selfishness that had caused Jon to resist his brother’s request for so long. He was content to fill his time teaching the raw men who came to Winterfell, even knowing the demands Robb faced every day. It was easy, it was familiar. _No, it was cowardice. Another name to add to my black brother’s list. Coward._ It was done now. He had not been fair to Robb and his brother was right. Winter would be upon them soon enough, he could ignore it no longer.

Jon turned away from his thoughts to focus on the exchange between Robb and his squire.

“You can go on if you’d like Robb. I’ll see to them. It’s only a few and one is a woman. I don’t expect we will be marching to battle in the next hour at least.” He hoped Robb appreciated the offer. Jon hated the obligations of guests, the empty talk at mealtimes, the wastefulness of  feasts, the silly courtesies he was expected to give the daughters and lady wives. _I hate this even more than you do Robb. Fucking pleasantries. That better be a good cup of ale._

But, Ghost and Grey Wind did not let Robb answer. They ran, to the East Gate and back, again and again.

“Ghost, to me!” John ordered but his wolf did not seem to hear him. He knew there must be an expression of fear on his face, the last time Ghost ignored him this way, the red woman had used her magics on him. _Is that who approaches? No. She is at Castle Black, surely she would not be so foolish as to come to Winterfell._  He could only look on helplessly as the two wolves ran through the main gate, towards the Kings Road and away from them. _They want us to follow._

He barely heard Robb as they walked together, outside of Winterfell. “No, I believe I will stay here.”

They watched silently as Grey Wind and Ghost ran towards the three riders. Jon prepared to pull Long Claw from his sword belt just in case. The woman, who ever she was, stepped down from her horse and waited for the wolves to approach. _They know her. Arya? Could it be you?_

The sun was behind her, turning their visitor in to nothing but a shadow in skirts. Jon glanced at his brother, saw his eyes squinting too. She had left her horse behind with her companions and seemed content to come to them, Ghost and Grey Wind on either side of her as if keeping guard, her newfound protectors.

She came closer and Jon realized. “Sansa.” He heard their sister’s name also fall from Robb’s mouth, a quiver in his voice.

Sansa looked at them both, all three seemed almost frozen, none of them capable of moving. Finally, the spell broke and she ran towards them, reaching him first. Jon pulled her against him as tightly as he could, placing his hands around her back and waist. He felt her nuzzle into his neck, her skin soft against the roughness of his beard. It was bliss.

Too soon, she pulled back and looked up at him. Her hand reached up to cup his face, her thumb lightly stroking his cheekbone. Sansa’s touch was the gentlest of tortures. “Jon. I...it is good to see you again.  Truly.” The smile she gave him was a small one but no less genuine. It was intimate, as if she was offering a gift to him alone.

With that, she turned to Robb.  It was his turn to greet their sister. With an almost too sharp yank, Robb wrapped Sansa in his arms, cocooning her against his chest, as if to prevent her ever escaping them. Eventually, he lessened his grip but still kept his arms locked on Sansa’s waist. “You came home...I missed you...I was afraid I...that we...we would never see you again.” Robb struggled with his words.

“I came home.” It was a simple statement but Jon thought he understood her meaning. It was then he noticed the smile she was giving to Robb. Her lips were a bit tighter and her eyes sharper. This was a different smile than the one given to him. He glanced at Robb’s face, quickly assured his brother hadn't noticed. _What does that mean? What's wrong, Sansa?_

Sansa moved towards him without quite letting go of Robb and took his arm in her hand. Holding  on to her brothers, she led them towards home, the direwolves following behind, seemingly to confirm their new position as protectors.

“Jon, Robb, this is the Lady Brienne and her squire Podrick. They have been my protectors since before I left the Vale. Lady Brienne was once sworn to our mother, as you may remember, Robb.” _There is a message there although I could not say what it was._ Robb didn’t seem to notice this either.

He had forgotten the other two riders and looked at them for the first time. They stood a few feet away, no longer astride their horses. They were an awkward group, silent together in the outer courtyard, others in the castle had begun to gather and look upon them. Jon saw the faces of some, curiosity but no recognition. _Sansa is a stranger in her own home._ It was an unsettling thought, Winterfell’s daughter was the outsider now, not him. He knew why they looked at the woman, she stood over all of them, broad and big, hair the color of straw, shorn like a man. She was dressed as a knight and carried a sword. _Arya will want to meet you._ The other was closer in age to Sansa, a young man, brown hair and plain faced. The two strangers seemed ill ease, he could feel the hint of suspicion from the pair.

Almost a pattern now, it was Sansa who once again spoke, breaking the tension that had started to build. “Brienne, my brother Robb can have someone take you to rooms to rest and eat. Us Starks are stronger within the walls of Winterfell as I once told you and I’ve got my brothers and a pair of direwolves to keep me safe.”

_I’m not a Stark, Sansa. Surely you haven’t forgotten that._

Robb indicated to his squire Edwyn to assist Sansa’s companions and offered Sansa his arm to guide her into the keep, Jon following a couple steps behind with the wolves.

They ended up in his brother’s solar, a more private location than the hall. As soon as Jon closed the door, their sister turned to face them both.

“I made something for you both as I journeyed home. It’s small, just a handkerchief.” With that, Sansa pulled two scraps of blue from within the folds of her cloak and handed one each to him and Robb. They were matching, linen with two direwolves curled together, one grey and the other white, the image repeated on two opposing corners. “It’s Ghost and Grey Wind, or as near as I could remember. Do you like it?” Jon thought it was exquisite, the detail made it seem as if she saw the wolves every day rather than drawing upon memories from years ago.

Robb looked at their sister, there was a wetness in his eyes. “It’s beautiful Sansa, thank you.” He leaned forward to kiss her cheek, Jon could only nod his appreciation, he did not remember her making him anything before.

“You’re all grown up, Sansa. Not our little sister anymore. You’re beautiful.. ” Jon did not miss his brother’s almost invisible glance downwards. _You mean she’s grown teats, don’t you Robb?_ “I’m afraid to look away. That if I do, you will disappear and leave us again.” Sansa only blushed.

Jon finally took all of Sansa in, slowly looking her over without an audience or strangers watching him. Robb was wrong, their sister was more than beautiful. She had been pretty as a child, he had always known she would draw the eyes of men to her someday. Now though, she was something else, a vision. Their sister was slim with long legs, her skirts doing nothing to hide her womanly curves. Her eyes were a rich blue, her skin was smooth, the barely there freckles on her nose only enhancing her features. And her hair, a rich auburn with what appeared to be every shade of red, copper and the sun at twilight. If he ever got to touch it, Jon was certain it would feel like the finest silks running through his fingers.

“How did you end up  in the Vale? How did Brienne find you? No one knew where you were. I tried to find information about you but all I got were rumors, they said you killed Joffrey and then you flew away…”

“Robb-”

“What happened to -”

“Robb!” Sansa interrupted more forcefully this time. “I know you have questions for me as I do for you. But, please, please, allow me to visit Lady first. I very much wish to see her again.”

His brother blinked, once, twice, and then spoke. “Of course. I’m sorry, I did not mean to push. I could accompany you, if you’d like.” It was more a plea than an offer, Robb truly was afraid Sansa would disappear.

“Forgive me Robb, I would like to go myself. There are some things I need to say that are for her alone. I’m sorry.”

Robb nodded but made no effort to hide his disappointment.

“Could I take Ghost and Grey Wind with me? I am sure they would wish to visit with their sister too” Their wolves did not seem to care what Jon or Robb wanted, both walking to stand beside Sansa at that.

“I once told myself it would be so sweet to see you both again. I have looked forward to this moment for more days than I care to think on.” With that, she smiled and walked out of the room, the direwolves trailing behind her.

“Jon…”

“I know.”

“She’s different.”

“She is.”

“Our sister grew teats”. _Robb._

“She did.” Jon did not see a reason to tell his brother he had looked too.

“She looks...she looks…”“

“She looks like a queen.”

He thought of Melisandre again and wolves in the cold. _Kissed by fire._ Then it struck him, Jon had stayed silent the entire time, not uttering so much as a single word to her. _I could not even welcome her home._

***

Ghost and Grey Wind led Sansa to the lichyard and Lady as she had known they would.

She sat at the grave, the wolves on either side of her, forming a semi-circle.

  
“I did as you asked Lady, I came home. Can you forgive me? I did not mean for it to take so long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, they totally checked out her boobs!


	4. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated the rating on this from mature to explicit, this is gonna (eventually) get filthy. I also added a fluff tag in case this story looked like one giant angst-fest.

After her visit, Sansa returned to the Great Keep to find the rooms she had once used as a child prepared for her. That would not do. Just returned to Winterfell and already she felt overwhelmed by what lay before her. _Surely Robb and Jon have not spent all their time playing at swords?_ She would begin tomorrow, an inventory would need to be done. Is there even a steward to be found at Winterfell? Sansa guessed not.

She thanked the gods someone had thought to have a bath drawn, the heat from the water was an indulgence she had missed the past many weeks of her travel. None of the oils or creams she was used to were available but the soap was enough, Sansa swore it smelled of winter. Dressing was an easy matter, she had only three gowns with her. Two were simple lambswool in dark colors with simple embroidery around the bodice, sleeves, and hem. They were modest though, and better fit for a serving girl. That made them ideal for travelling, those were not dresses Sansa Stark would wear. She would be dining with her brothers shortly, she needed armor. That left her third gown, dark blue velvet slashed with silver, it would wake the color in her eyes. This dress clung to her waist and sat low on the neck, it would serve very well. She looked at her reflection in a looking glass found on her dressing table, her hair a shining tumble, worn unbound in the Northern style.

Satisfied, Sansa left her chambers and found herself outside Robb’s solar once again. _Remember what Lady told you, remember what you promised._ She raised her hand for a moment, then, changing her mind, entered without any prior announcement. _Much better._ Conversation stopped as Robb and Jon turned to greet her, mouths hanging open like a pair of fish, eyes taking her in as if to memorize her form. _Good, let them look._ They walked as a pair towards her in greeting but it was Jon that spoke first, she was not expecting that.

“Hello, Sansa. You look pretty.” He bent to lightly kiss her forehead, the brief stroke of his hand against her hair almost too soft to feel. _Jon Snow said something._

“Sansa, my beautiful sister.” Robb repeated their brother’s gesture, only kissing her cheek instead. As before, he seemed afraid to release her, keeping his hand at the small of her back as he guided her closer to the fire.

“I thought we could dine alone in here tonight, just the three of us, if it pleases you.”

“It would please me greatly. The household can wait an evening to meet the Lady of Winterfell I should think. For now, I wish only to be in your company tonight.” At that, she grabbed Jon’s hand and squeezed lightly, turning it so his palm faced up. It was only then Sansa saw the burns and found herself stroking them, noting the queer smoothness of it. With a final squeeze, Sansa released him, not wanting to cause her brother discomfort.

“Sansa, can I fetch you a drink? We have gold from the arbor if you’d like.”

  
She could barely refrain from wrinkling her nose, having long since lost her taste for the gold. “No, but I thank you. Is it ale you have, Jon? I think I would rather try some of that.” It was her first night back in Winterfell, it was only right she drank as Northmen did.

Jon poured from a flagon on a nearby table and handed her a cup. She took a sip and coughed. Robb and Jon laughed but thankfully said nothing. “I think I’ll switch to the red next. It seems to better suit my tastes.” Their laughter was the sweetest sound.

Cup in hand, they each sat by the fire, content to be in each other’s presence. Grey Wind and Ghost finally left the warmth of the hearth to greet her, each demanding a pet before returning to lay back down.

“I took the liberty of having a bath drawn for you, I hope you didn’t mind. You had been travelling and I thought…”

“You were always such a good big brother Robb, always ready to take care of me. You were a hero to me when we were children, did you know that?” _Let him think on that._ But she gave him a smile anyways and added as if it were an afterthought, “Oh, a mistake was made with my rooms. I’ll have myself moved into the Lady’s Chambers tomorrow. I do not want either of you to trouble yourself over it.”

“But, that was mother’s room.”

“Yes, of course, she was the Lady of Winterfell. As we are in here, I would guess the same could be spoken of the Lord’s Chambers as well?”

“When we returned to Winterfell, Jon and I took our old rooms again. It did not feel right to take the space once occupied by father.”

“Why? You are the King in the North, is that not where you should be?” She pretended confusion.

“Well, yes, but -”

Sansa did not allow Robb to finish, clapping her hands in a pretense of happiness at his response, wearing a too large smile. “Then it’s settled. Jon, should I also see to your arrangements?”

“No, I-”

“Nonsense. I want to help you both. You will be in here. Brother to the king and Prince in the North, it is fitting.”

Her brothers just looked at her, similar expressions on their face. _They do not want to tell me no._

The conversation drifted to idle chatter, Sansa found herself content to mostly listen, adding a nod or laugh when necessary. Jon and Robb shared stories with her of the time they had all spent apart, their voices were music to her after all these years. Sansa was not yet ready to share her own stories.

Sitting there, Jon and Robb on each side of her, Sansa felt at peace. She felt safe. It was comfortable and unfamiliar at the same. She wanted to burrow into their arms and stay there forever. She wanted to pretend she had not made a promise. _I want too many things._

She looked at them, almost glowing in the soft firelight. Fit and strong, both. They had each been handsome as boys but time had made them even moreso. Jon was long and lean but Sansa knew his body would be firm with muscle when she looked upon it. He was almost beautiful with his black curls and his lips. I wager many a woman has wanted to kiss those lips. And Robb, a little taller and broader than Jon but just as solid. His thick auburn hair had more brown and less of the red to be found in her own but his eyes were the same shade of Tully blue. Robb’s beard could not hide his square jaw, the softness of youth that she remembered was gone completely, his face had grown hard. His body would likely be as finely muscled as Jon’s. Sansa decided she liked the look of both men very much.

“Dinner?”

She had not even noticed their meal had been brought in.

They stood up, Robb once again escorting her to a nearby table, his hand at the small of her back. Is he afraid I will run away? They sat to find a simple spread of venison, roasted onion, peas, mashed turnips, and black bread. To Sansa, it was a feast.

“Can you tell us what happened in King’s Landing? And where you went after?” Sansa could see the hesitation in Robb’s eyes. _He is not sure he wants answers. Well, I am not sure I wish to give them._

***

“I…”

“You do not need to speak of it, if you do not wish.” Jon could see it, her face had become a mask, practiced neutrality. She has worn that look before, many times. _She wishes to hide herself from us. But she touched my hand, she stroked it._

“No, no, it is not that. I had expected this question but it is not an easy time to speak of. King’s Landing was..not pleasant. Most days, I try not to think of it. After father was killed, Joffrey made me look at his head. Eventually, I spent as much time as I could in the godswood, praying. Joffrey and his kingsguard would leave me alone there. It was my comfort, even more after I was made to marry Tyrion Lannister.” _She paints a pretty picture. It is still a picture though._

He almost missed her words. “Tyrion Lannister? He accompanied me to the wall, did you know that? By the time he left to return south, I counted him a friend. Would you know what become of him? We had heard he was accused of his nephew’s death but nothing since.” Jon did not miss the way she pursed her mouth at that, almost imperceptible but he could still see it. _She does not like the word friend. Surely Tyrion did not wish her harm, he had been a friend._

“Tyrion. We spoke little, I avoided him as much as possible. I do not think he killed his nephew. Tyrion hated Joffrey, perhaps as much as I did, but he would not kill him. He had no love for his family but Tyrion was still very committed to the Lannister cause. I could not allow myself to forget that. But, he was….kind to me, in his way.” _Kind. In his way. Another picture, Sansa?_

At this, Jon summoned his courage to ask a question. He was desperate to know the answer yet fearing it all the same. “Sansa, could I ask, do you have any news of Arya? We have heard nothing of her. Would you know what happened to her?”

Sansa’s looked downward, a sadness overtook her face. _No…._

“I do not know exactly. I had to look at father’s head and I saw all of them, even Septa Mordane. But, Arya, she was not amongst them. I can tell you she was not killed that day. For awhile, I thought she had escaped on a ship father arranged for us and was back home in Winterfell. But, from things Cersei and Joffrey said, I realized that was not the case. She had somehow escaped the Red Keep and got away but I never asked.”

“You never asked? She was your sister.” Jon could not keep the accusation from his voice.

“And the letter? Why did you write that letter to us, to your family” Robb had questions of his own. Jon looked at Sansa then and could see it. _We ask too much._

“No, I did not ask. Not even once. In King’s Landing, you learn quickly and you suffer when you do not. As to the letter, yes, I wrote it. And you want to know why. Did you know the price of your victory for Oxcross? Joffrey was angry, so very angry, more than I had ever seen him before. He had me stripped and beaten with the flat of a sword. ‘Make her naked.’ he said. A kingsguard, good and loyal knight that he was, began to hit me. Not my face though, not after the first time. Joffrey liked me pretty, you see. After awhile, I stopped counting the blows, it would end soon enough. So yes, I wrote that letter. And no, I never asked about Arya. And Tyrion may have been your friend, but he was never mine. I also swore my love to Joffrey every day, I swore I would be a good and loyal wife to him. That I did not have the traitor’s blood in me like my brother and father. And I went to the godswood whenever I could, I prayed for my torments to end, I prayed for my brother to come rescue me, I prayed for home, for Winterfell. Eventually, I stopped praying. What else do you wish to know? What else would you bid me explain?”

Jon looked at Sansa, she was angry. It was not the petulance and temper of her youth. Her anger was the wrath of a woman grown, it was frightening to look upon. The room was quiet, the only sounds came from the crackle in the fireplace and light pants of the wolves as they lay. As the silence went on, Grey Wind and Ghost left their respective place at their master’s feet and went over to stand next to Sansa. T _hey have picked their side it would seem_. Sansa spent a moment stroking each wolf’s head, scratching at the ears. As she did, the anger slowly left, her face once again returning to that mask she wore earlier.

“I...I’m sorry. Forgive me, I did not mean to say all that. I did not mean it, not truly. And now I’ve ruined it all. What I said earlier today, how I knew it would be sweet to see you both again, I did not lie. And here I am with you both and I have ruined it….”

Sansa had gone from one extreme to another, her mask failing and she was a little girl again, eager to please. He began to fear she would start to cry, that would be even worse. Only now did Jon realize it, Sansa carried her own sins and guilts with her, just as he and Robb did. _And in all these years, I barely spared her a thought._ At a loss, Jon looked to his brother. What could they say?

To his relief, Robb seemed to understand the same thing. “Do you still like lemoncakes, Sansa? I have ordered some fruits to freshen our stores here at Winterfell. We have lemons coming, I’ll have cook make some for you. Berries, plums, apricots, too.” _I could kiss you Robb._

They left all talk of King’s Landing behind at that.

“Did you know as I travelled home, the two of you were a constant subject amongst the small folk? I kept my identity hidden as we travelled but I heard of you both often. King Robb, the Young Wolf and his brother, the White Wolf who had been the Black Bastard at the wall. They said the two of you made the roads safe again, like it was before. With Starks back in Winterfell, a maid could walk the roads in her nameday dress without fear. That you killed the Boltons and defeated the Lannisters. Did you know the direwolf still flies over Raventree Hall and Seagard? And Jon, they say you are sending men to the wall, to keep the realm safe as the Starks have always done.”

Sending men to the wall, Jon wanted to laugh. Yes, he was sending a great many men. He and Robb had worked to clear the North of brigands and broken men left behind after the wars had ended. Many had sworn themselves to the local liege but Jon had made a point to send a large number to the wall, to replenish their ranks. He had made sure to select from amongst the most depraved, the worst rapists and murderers he could find. The Watch had long accepted criminals, to have their crimes forgiven if they became one of the brothers in black. So, Jon did his part to keep that practice alive and support his former brothers. _Never let it be said that Jon Snow does not honor the traditions of the Night’s Watch._

***

Sansa had almost kissed her brother for his change of subject. He was once again the hero from their childhood, the beloved older brother ready to take care of her. She slowly felt the anger towards him slipping away. _He did not save me in King’s Landing but I have him back. I have my Robb back. And my Jon. I have them both back. Let this night never end._

Their meal ended with a bowl of strawberries in sweet cream, it tasted divine. The rest of their evening was spent on innocent talk of childhood, of snowball fights and Old Nan’s stories. It was exquisite, it was the reunion she had long dreamed of. But, eventually, her travels and the day caught up to her and a yawn escaped her mouth. She needed rest, there was much to do. _And I have promises to keep, I promised Lady._

Sansa had almost left the room before remembering. “Robb, hand me your tunic. I’ll return it to you tomorrow.”

“My tunic? What in the Seven Heavens for?” Robb shot out, aghast.

“There is a tear by the cap in your sleeve that needs mending. Obviously you have no one else to take care of it, or it would have already been done. Hand me your tunic, please.” It was a simple enough request, the both of them had removed the leather surcoat she had seen them in earlier.

Not sure what to say, her brother silently complied. That was good. Sansa took in her brother’s chest before taking the garment. _Very good._ Her earlier guess had been proven correct.

“I intend to start an inventory tomorrow of materials we have on hand and will place an order for the rest. You both need new wardrobes.”

Satisfied, Sansa bid them goodnight and retired to bed.

***

“I’m naked.”

“No. She was kind enough to leave you your breeches.”

“Did she mean to embarrass me?”

“I believe she wanted a look. Doubtless, she’ll do the same to me before too long.” _Jon Snow does know some things._

Jon saw the confused expression on his brother’s face. “A look? What does that mean exactly?”

“We talked about her teats, Robb. Are you so surprised?” _If you mention her cunt, I'm leaving._

_Kissed by fire._

 

“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Sansa's turn to have some thoughts.


	5. Shared Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things. There is a very mild spoiler from the Theon gift chapter below. Sansa's POV is coming next and will also have a spoiler from the unreleased Alayne chapter that was pushed back from DoD. 
> 
> This is a Robb POV only. I had meant to include a Sansa POV as well but did not like how it is working out. So, the bad news, you'll need to wait a bit longer to hear from her. The good news, I'm almost done.

It was still early in the day, not yet time for their usual session in the training yard so Robb went seeking his brother elsewhere, Jon had adopted their father’s long ago habit of retiring to the godswood to seek time alone. His brother had always been the quieter and more reflective one, and, although he never uttered a single complaint regarding his new responsibilities as King’s Hand, Robb knew it wore at him. So, it was no surprise to find his brother sitting at the base of the heart tree, Long Claw in his hands. _So much like father…_

“Jon.”

His brother glanced towards him, his face more solemn than usual. “You found me.”

“It was not overly difficult. I wanted to talk to you.”

He heard a quiet sigh. “About what exactly?”

“We've received several ravens today. Concerning foodstuffs.”

“You came to the godswood just to tell me that?”  Robb sensed a trace of annoyance in his brother’s words.   _No, ravens were a pretense._ “From Maester Tybald, no doubt. Why can we not get Sam?”

Jon hated the man. Robb had the idea to use him until a replacement could be sent from the Citadel but had once found Jon with the maester shoved against the wall, his brother’s dagger against the man’s throat, calmly explaining just how he planned to gut the man,how much he would enjoy the sight of steam rising from the maester’s entrails as they met the cold air. The poor man had pissed himself.  Robb had managed to convince Jon to let Maester Tybald go with a promise he could take his head if the maester should attempt a betrayal. They were both well aware of what Tybald had done for Arnolf Karstark and the Boltons. Robb eagerly awaited a new maester for Winterfell, it was a near certainty that he would find the man dead on the floor of the maester’s turret one day. He just hoped the replacement was not from the Westerlands, Robb would then find himself with two dead maesters instead of just the one.

“Your friend Sam is still a member of the Night’s Watch if you will recall.”

“The Night’s Watch can go bugger itself.” He could see the bitterness on Jon’s face. And the anger.

“With the men you’ve been sending there, you may just get your wish yet.”

His brother gave no reply, so after a moment, Robb tried again. “It was not your fault, what they did to you, you do know that?”

At that, Jon finally looked at him, he had kept his attention focused on Long Claw up until that point. Robb took in his brother’s face, for once Jon was making no effort to hide the pain he had been carrying with him these past few moons. Most days, Jon could seem as cold as their father’s sword to those who did not know him well. Robb had heard the whispers of their men in the training yard, they were frightened of him. He remembered one young lad in particular, Cley, claim he was certain Jon wished to kill him. Robb had to explain that in the North, the men do not waste their skill on tourneys, they learn how to use swords knowing that one day the lives of everyone they know and love will likely depend upon them, and he had better remember that at his next practice. After that, Robb saw the change, the men in the castle guard were coming to almost worship his brother.

“I was in the right, I know that, it was right to bring the free folk over. We would have been fighting them again, only the next time we would have been fighting dead men. Bowen Marsh and all the rest were blind men. The Watch lacked the strength, less than 600 men left. With free folk help, we began to man the castles, Greyguard and the Nightfort to start. We could have resettled The Gift, giving the Watch much needed income too. Iit was Arya they killed me for though. I stayed when father died, when I learned of Bran and little Rickon, when I had thought you dead. And Sansa, in all those years, I rarely even thought of her.  But Arya, I would have broken my vows for her, marched to war for her. I was an oathbreaker, Robb. And they killed me for it.”

He was stunned. In some ways, Robb had known all of this, but to hear Jon speak of it, to give voice to all the thoughts he had been trying to keep buried, it was as if his brother was handing him a rare gift.

“I broke my vows too, Jon. If you are an oathbreaker, then so am I. I had pledged to marry a Frey in exchange for passage at The Twins and the use of their men.  Instead, I married Jeyne. I told my mother it was to save her honor, but, in truth, I wanted to marry her. I felt alone, the war and the responsibilities of kingship, it was too much. Then Bran and Rickon...So, I took comfort in Jeyne and I lost an army over it.”

Robb paused for a moment but continued when Jon said nothing. “I felt so much guilt after that wedding, a part of me wished I had died there too. That I should have died with my own men. It was that first day when Sansa came back, when we were listening to her talk about her time away. I realized, she’s the same as us. Sansa was so eager that night, she wanted to be perfect for us. Maybe to show she isn’t the little girl we once knew, I don’t really know. But, Sansa was angry about what happened to her. And she felt guilty too, for not saving Arya or father, for telling the Lannisters what they wanted to hear, and that letter. I should not have asked her about that, I knew I was wrong as soon as I did. “

“Robb.”

He looked at Jon, the man who had come to mean so much to him. “Me too, brother.” He held out his hand and clasped Jon’s for a moment, feeling content. This was the first time either had truly talked about what happened to them, it was enough for today.

They sat in silence for awhile, enjoying the tranquility of the godswood.

“Apparently Sansa walked in on you again this morning.”

Jon turned towards towards him at that, a flat expression in his features, his face turning red. “I did not even have my breeches on, I think she may have seen my cock.”

“A new article of clothing, I’ll wager? I have not seen that doublet before today.” It was a simple dark blue lambswool, absent any decoration other than a pair of white direwolves on each side of the chest. Sansa’s needle work was extraordinary, the direwolves bore a resemblance to Ghost that was almost uncanny. Robb strongly suspected that if anyone but Sansa had given him the garment, Jon would have promptly thrown it in the fire. She had also made them each a new cloak and a surcoat as well. Robb had no doubt there was more to come.

“I thanked her for not making it of velvet.”

“I am sure you were duly grateful.”  

“I’m wearing it, am I not?”

Their clothing was one of many tasks Sasa had taken too after her return. Her days had become as full as both his and Jon’s.

He still remembered his shock when they had first reunited. They had been apart for many years, yet Robb always pictured Sansa as he once knew her, young, flat-chested, beautiful but with the face of a child more than a woman. The Sansa that returned was very different, tall and graceful. She had taken his breath away. He had noticed her in a way that he should not have, for a moment he had forgotten that she was his sister. His shame was somewhat lessened when he realized Jon had done the same. They had not remarked upon her teats, or any other part of her, since that first day. That did not mean Robb no longer noticed.

After their meal that first night, Sansa seemed to grow more relaxed with the both of them. She had seemed both eager to please and afraid of their judgment then. Whatever her fears were, it seemed they had eased, at least temporarily.

She had returned to the two of them well over a fortnight ago and Winterfell had felt more a home to him than at any point since he and Jon had taken it back. Sansa had gone through every chest and closet she could find, pulling tapestries, banners with the Direwolf sigil, and more, out of storage. They hung from the walls of the Great Hall now, men hunting, battle and feasts, and always direwolves, a reminder that Starks were once again ruling Winterfell and the North. Outside, more banners were on display, the direwolf sigil could be seen from almost anywhere within the castle walls. Even more were in the process of being repaired. Chamber rooms that had been reserved for guests were cleaned, broken and burned furniture removed. Once, he had spied her in the nursery, looking through the toys and other childish items that remained. Sansa had found herself a lady’s maid for herself and even a brewer for Winterfell.

More, the household looked to be falling in love with her. _How could they not love her?_ Sansa had made a point to learn the names of all who resided within the walls of Winterfell, she watched the castle guard train and praised their efforts, and began to journey to Wintertown often. One evening, he had asked why. Her response had yet to leave him. _“While I was gone, I saw too many women at the mercy of men, no power of their own. I know that horror. I go to Wintertown because I want the women amongst our people to know me, to know their Lady will listen and help should they ever need it.”_ He had no words to, Jon and he could only stare in response.

“And you look quite dashing, I could almost take a fancy to you.”

Jon chose to ignore that, asking a question instead. “Has she walked in on you again?”

Robb could feel his own face turn red at that. “The other day, I’m fair certain she saw my backside.”

Jon gave him one of his rare smiles, “I believe Sansa finds it a great joke, she rather enjoys trying to fluster us.” _I believe it bothers you less than you claim._

“Can I ask you something, Jon?”

His brother looked at him for a moment, then looked down, refusing to meet Robb’s eyes. _He knows what I am going to ask._

“Do you like what Sansa has been doing?”

“How do you mean?” _I think you know._

“You know exactly what I mean, she cleans our scrapes, she went through our wardrobes and mended everything. She removed every item she deemed ‘not worthy of the King in the North and the King’s Hand, the Royal Prince’. I believe those were her exact words. She even insisted on cutting our hair. In truth Jon, I like it. Sansa..she’s acting like a…”  Robb could not finish, he was not sure what word to use.   _Have I said too much?_

“Like a wife. She’s acting like a wife, Robb. And yes, I rather like it as well. I believe brother, it turns out we needed her just as much as she needed us.” _I think I may like it too much Jon. I am afraid I am starting to love that which I should not._

 

At that, Robb looked up into the branches of the heart tree just above them and saw a raven peering down, watching the two of them.


	6. Her First Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this came out all right, this chapter was a beast. It should bring some clarity as to Sansa's behavior her first day back.

Sansa had just finished meeting with the new brewer, Hellan, to go over current ale stocks.Her brothers had been taking from the stores at Barrowton but it was time for Winterfell to see to its own needs. Every day that passed, Jon added to the ranks of men living in the guard’s house. His recruitment efforts would only place more demand on their supplies. She would likely need coin to bring in more wine from the Arbor, they could not produce enough for the coming winter. And their lack of a steward, that was a problem she still had yet to solve. The wars left many houses with second and third sons ruling or even daughters. House Cerwyn had only an unmarried woman, already 30 years of age with no issue. House Tallhart and Karstark also found themselves with female heirs. For now, this would continue to be a problem she would solve another day.

Leaving the kitchen, Sansa found herself walking across the inner courtyard back towards the great keep to prepare for the evening meal. Brienne, her companion and shield, walked beside er, Grey Wind a quiet presence just behind. Sansa had ceased to question the wolves’ queer behavior. It was a rare moment she found herself without either Grey Wind or Ghost nearby. Many nights, one or the other would join her in bed. The two wolf brothers had seemed to decide a schedule between the two of them in an effort to be her constant shadow. If Robb or Jon took issue, they had yet to make any complaint to her. She hoped they never did. 

Sansa would need to tell  her brothers about Jaime soon, it was time to ask. “Brienne, have you had any word from Jaime yet?” ,

“No, my lady. He will not risk sending a raven here, he will wait for you. For us.” Those last words came out almost a whisper but Sansa knew what Brienne meant. She had not missed the way Brienne looked at the Kingslayer. Or the way he looked at her. 

“I plan to tell my brothers about him tonight, Jaime and the Vale. I am afraid.”  _ Afraid they will call me monster. Afraid they will call me turncloak and not a true Stark. I could not bear it. _

“You need not, Sansa, I have seen how they look at you. Your brother Robb almost worships you. And the other one, I believe he feels nearly the same even if his sullen face hides it.” 

Sansa found herself laughing at that, when she looked upon Jon’s face, she saw only kindness. 

“I will tell you what they say of Jaime tomorrow. If he needs our help, I promise you, I will try.”  _ If I can give you both even a moment of happiness, I will try, I promise you that too.  _ There was nothing else to say, Sansa reached over to touch Brienne’s arm lightly and they continued their walk in silence.

She did not voice any more of her fears aloud, it was more than Jaime that worried her. But Sansa could not share those burdens with Brienne, no matter how close they were now. It was Jon and Robb, not Brienne, that she needed. 

It had been almost a full turn of the moon since Sansa had returned and every day brought a new joy. Home in Winterfell, she was Sansa Stark again, gone was the traitor's daughter of King’s Landing and Alayne Stone of the Vale. Her brothers had taken her riding in the wolfswood, she had swam in the hot springs, and Robb even spent an afternoon teaching her how to throw knives. If she could, Sansa would put each of these memories in a box and store them in a chest, they were precious treasures she never wanted to lose.

Sansa was proud of all she had done in that time.  Her correspondence with House Mormont and Lady Glover were going well. It was the same with Alys Karstark and Wylla Manderly. She had worked hard to plant those seeds and was quite certain they would soon bear fruit. The guest house was cleaned and her brothers both had new wardrobes. She offered assistance with their many food purchases, her knowledge of events in the south had proven valuable. Robb was especially pleased with the guest house, had told her they would likely have great need of it. 

It was this thought thought that stopped her.  _ They know. Robb and Jon know. They have been preparing for war and I have not seen it. How could I not see it? _ Sansa had listened to Robb and Jon talk for so many evenings but she never realized, she never saw it. She knew nothing of warfare, had no use for a sword or bow. And she had missed it. Their plans to build a navy on each coast, the newest off Sea Dragon Point, by Bear Island. Jon was not creating a castle guard but was preparing a new army. Robb’s orders, demanding that his bannermen find ever more blacksmiths and apprentices. It was for weapons and armor. And she had missed it all.

“Sansa. My Lady, are you well? Your face has gone pale. Should I summon the maester?” Brienne’s worry was clear on her face. 

“No, no. I am just tired. Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you. Perhaps I should rest for awhile before dining this evening. ”  _ I have to tell them. About the Vale and Jaime. And Lady. They know.  _

Somehow, the rest of the day passed and Sansa found herself walking towards Robb’s solar. She could not recall eating so much as a morsel of food. She entered to find her brothers talking of the food supply here in the North, it had become a worry for all three of them. Sansa had seen the store rooms, saw how little there was even in Winterfell. Purchases had been made but it was not nearly enough. If the Starks did not provide, the North would starve, young and old alike. Winter would have little care for the innocent. 

“Yohn Royce is regent to your cousin in the Vale and our father was a good friend to him. I plan to see if we can negotiate a purchase of grainery to supplement our stores. With taxes no longer flowing south to King’s Landing, we should be able to offer sufficient coin.”

Jon’s words brought her fear back, sharp and painful. It was time, she had promised Brienne. She had promised Lady. It was time. 

Summoning her courage, Sansa spoke, “If you mean to approach Lord Royce, I could help you. Littlefinger had schemed to hoard Vale crops in order to take advantage of winter shortages. Let me help you.” The quiver in her voice was small, she could only hope Jon and Robb did not hear it. 

“Littlefinger? Were you with Littlefinger in the Vale, Sansa?” Robb’s voice seemed distant, hard to hear over the thoughts in her head.  _ They love you. Tell them. Tell them.  _

So she answered. “Yes, Littlefinger took me to his home in the Fingers after I escaped King’s Landing. I am ready to tell you what happened to me while I was gone and how I came to return. There are some things you must know.” 

Sansa looked around the room for a moment, Robb’s solar had become the room they escaped to at the end of each day. One night in particular, they had spent together in front of the fire but she had somehow fallen asleep. She woke to find herself in Robb’s arms, being carried back to her rooms. That was another memory she wanted to place in her treasure chest. 

Then, risking a final glance at her brothers, Sansa began to tell her story. She told them of Ser Dontos and Joffrey’s wedding, Lysa and the moon door, Littlefinger's kisses and Alayne Stone.  

“In the Eyrie, no one knew who I was or what had happened to Sansa Stark. I almost felt safe, but that changed once we journeyed down the Giant’s Lance to the Gates of the Moon. It was there I discovered that you, Jon, had been made Lord Commander and you, Robb, were still alive. I had thought you dead, Littlefinger told me you were.” At this, Sansa paused and took a sip of her wine before continuing.  _ They will hate me soon.  _ “I also learned that Littlefinger had arranged a betrothal to me, to a man named Harry Hardyng, Sweetrobin’s heir. I did not want to marry but had no way to escape. Littlefinger planned to use him to take back Winterfell for me which meant you both would end up dead, I knew what the man would do in pursuit of his ambitions. And he wanted me, as a daughter and a lover. I realized that if I wanted to come home, I would either return as Littlefinger’s whore or find a way to become Sansa Stark again. And this is When Brienne and Podrick found me. And with them came Jaime Lannister and his personal guard of about fifty men.”

“‘Jaime Lannister? Jaime Lannister who tried to kill our brother? Who did kill our father’s men? The one I fought a war against? I don’t think I like this story very much, Sansa.” Robb’s jaw clenched, he made no effort to hide his anger.

“Yes, that Jaime Lannister, Believe me, I know all his sins, I know exactly what he is. Please, just listen.”  _ Lady Tysha of House Silverfist.  _ Jon had kept silent but she could feel his anger too. Jaime Lannister would find no friendship from her brothers. 

“Brienne approached mte and told me of her vows to our mother and pledged to keep me safe. She swore herself to me. And I believed her. I tell you true, Brienne of Tarth is not capable of deception. Jaime used his guard to pretend he was a representative of the crown. Littlefinger was forced to recognize them, otherwise it would be  treason. But, I knew I finally had a way out. Arrangements were made with Lord Royce. I entrusted Sweetrobin to him, a trust that has proven correct. Somehow, I think Littlefinger knew I was planning to leave him, that I wanted to get away. So, one night, in his study, he wanted more than kisses and did not seem to want to stop.”

“Did he rape you, Sansa? Is that what you are telling us?” John looked as if he dreaded the answer, suspecting he already knew. 

“No, he did not rape me. He was not the first man to touch me like he did but it was the first time I had the power to stop it. I needed to get away from him and I needed to know he could never hurt any of us again. So, I took the dagger he kept on his desk and stabbed him in the throat with it. Killed him with his own dagger. I watched as the blood left his body, as it soaked his tunic and fell on the floor. I listened to him take his last breath. And then Jaime and Brienne took me away. I stayed with his Lannister army until we were closer to the Neck. We thought you would not appreciate several thousand Lannister men riding towards Winterfell. I rode on and he turned his army back south. I believe he wanted to make a brief return to the Vale and is most likely back in King’s Landing by now. There are also some other tasks I have asked him to help me with.”

“Sansa, did you believe we would be angry with you because of Jaime Lannister?” Jon’s inquiry was soft, his voice felt almost a caress to Sansa.

“I was afraid of your anger, yes. I know what he did to our family but he saved me too. If it were not for him, I would likely still be in the Vale, playing at Alayne Stone. Sansa Stark would be a dead woman. He is still trying to help me. In truth, I believe he sees me as his absolution although I do not completely understand why. And now, I would ask a favor of you both, a promise. There may come a day when he needs our help, when he needs to come to Winterfell. I only ask that you listen to him. Before you pass a further judgment or refuse him, listen to him. Please.” she begged, her words a desperate plea rather than a mere request. 

“If we allow him here, you do realize we also risk angering our bannermen? They also lost kin to the Lannisters.” 

“I know what I ask Robb, I know what the cost for you might be. Please.” Sansa could not say anything else, she had made the request, it was up to Jon and Robb to decide now. 

Finally, after a wait that seemed to never end, Robb nodded agreement, “We will listen Sansa, I can give you that.” His earlier anger at the mention of the kingslayer was completely gone, there was a sadness to his face now. 

Relieved, Sansa prepared to tell them the rest, about Lady and what she had done. But memories of her first night home stopped her once again. Robb and Jon had grown angry over Arya and that letter and she had only been a child then. This was worse, so much worse. They would view it as a betrayal, not by a child but a woman grown. The realization that night had almost broken her. Sansa had come home prepared to charm and flirt, to manipulate even. She had been expecting the brothers she had known as boys. She had not been prepared for the men they had grown to be. She had not been prepared to realize her father had been a prophet, they were indeed brave, gentle, and strong. Worst of all, Sansa had not been prepared to love them as she did. 

She opened her mouth but no words came forth. Her courage had fled.

Sansa looked over to Grey Wind and Ghost and would swear she could see disappointment in their eyes.

  
_ One more day. I will tell them tomorrow.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if you are wondering about Sansa's "research", I'm getting to that in the next chapter, pinky promise.


	7. The Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter title: Shit Gets Real.

Jon woke early the next morning, thoughts of Sansa and her confession had led to a late night and restless sleep. He dressed quickly and almost left his rooms in just a tunic. But, he was going to visit Sansa and she would expect more. Jon chose another one of the new surcoats she had made, this one was a dark grey wool, a single white wolf on the left chest. He hoped she appreciated it.

Her words had stayed with him, and to his horror, he had found his cock growing hard when she told them of the death of Littlefinger and her escape. It was not the killing that did him in but the display of Sansa’s strength. Under her silks and velvets, rose oils, and silken hair, Sansa was steel. He and Robb thought they needed to protect her, keep her safe from the world but they were wrong. Sansa Stark could protect herself. Jon remembered a thought he had long ago, back at the wall. He had dismissed princesses in the tower as being useless, Sansa was a princess and she had been trapped in a tower. He was wrong about that too.

Satisfied at his appearance, Jon closed his door behind him and proceeded towards Sansa. At her door, he paused, tempted to walk in, it would serve her right, but he squashed the urge down. He did not mind giving her a look, that did not mean Sansa would feel the same. A quick knock and her door opened. Jon raised his hands as if to embrace her but realized it was merely Sansa’s maid that had answered.

“Fetch your Lady.”

He waited only a moment in the solar before Sansa emerged from her bed chamber. She had on a new dress, light blue that brought out the color in her own eyes. Then he noticed the detail, embroidery around her waist that made it look as if she was wearing a belt. It was their wolves, his and Robb’s, on alternating backgrounds of grey and white. The neckline featured dark blue roses, banded together like a necklace. _Winter roses. She should have winter roses._ The glass gardens had been destroyed but there were surely blue roses elsewhere in the North he could find. Her hair was still unbound, missing the braid she had taken to wearing. This was the first time he could remember her wearing something with Ghost on it. That must be important somehow.

Only then did Jon notice her maid was still in the room with them.

“Leave.”

“Jon.” He did not miss the rebuke in her voice.

“Get out, please.” The girl curtsied and left. _I do not even know her name. I should._

Her maid gone, Sansa walked towards him until she stood only a couple steps away.

“Did you come here to frighten the poor girl?”  For a moment, he thought her angry but he saw the smile on her face. _She plays with me. I can play too._

He took a step closer and looked into her eyes. “No, I had hoped to catch you in your bath.”

“My bath?” Her smile grew even wider.

“Aye. Or taking off your night rail. I had hoped for that too.”

He watched her raise her hand and place it gently on his arm, gently stroking, up, up, almost to his shoulder before coming to a rest. “And I disappointed you?” Sansa asked, her smile a gentle smirk.

“Very much so, it seemed only fair. You’ve taken your looks, it’s time to show.” His efforts to keep a grin off his face had now completely failed.

She laughed at that, the sound was musical and very Sansa. She had not moved her hand, gently cupping his arm.

“It was an accident the first time I did that. Your cloak had just been finished and I was so excited to give it you, I did not think to knock. You turned such a dark shade of red, it was as if I had upset a septa’s modesty. You are always so serious, it was fun teasing you a bit, you need more teasing in your life. I intend to keep doing just that. Besides, you are a very handsome man, Jon Snow. And now you are turning as red as the first time I looked. Poor Robb, he stammered an apology for his state of undress when I did it to him too. I believe our brother needs more teasing in his life too, perhaps as much as you. Sadly, you will have to try getting your look another day.” _Is that an invitation?_

Jon was blushing, he could feel the heat on his face. He very much needed a change of subject.

“I came here for something else too, I wanted to tell you something. Last night, after you told us about what happened to you, what you did when you were in the Vale, it made me remember something I did once.” His tone had gone serious.

At that, her hand moved from his arm to his chest, coming to a stop on the dire wolf sigil over his heart. He realized they had moved even closer together. Jon looked into her eyes, the playfulness of a minute ago was gone. After a moment’s consideration, Jon took a chance and rested his own hand very lightly against her waist. _If someone were to see us, they would think us lovers._

“Back at the wall, I worried the red witch would burn Mance Rayder’s son for king’s blood. I ripped a babe from his mother’s arms and passed it off as Mance’s. His babe would be safe and I could protect the child by revealing the truth if needed. I saved one life by stealing the life of another, forcing a woman to give up her child. I told myself it was necessary, that I needed to be a man, to kill the boy inside me. It needed to be done, so I did it.”

“And would you do it again?” Her voice had gone quiet but she did not meet his eyes, keeping her face pointed towards the floor. Jon wished she would look at him, give him some hint as to her thoughts.

“Yes. It was cruel and I was wrong to do it. But, yes. I would do it again.”

At this, Sansa finally raised her head to look on him, her gaze taking in his face. “Me too. What I told you and Robb, I would do all of them again as well.”

They were quiet for a moment. He moved his hand from her waist to her hair, moving his fingers through it. He had been right that first day, it felt like the finest silks. The free folk had been right too, she had been good luck for him and Robb.

“I am sorry Jon”, her voice was pained.

That caught his attention. “Sorry for what?” the confusion evident in his voice.

“When we were younger, I should have loved you better, I should have been a better sister to you.”

“We were just children Sansa and you did love me. I always knew that.” Jon had no other words, she had left him confused.

“No, not like I should have. Did you know I once told Arya that you were jealous because you were a bastard? I was right about that but I was wrong too. I saw the jealous boy but I didn’t see the boy in pain. You wanted to belong, you wanted to be loved like our father’s trueborn children. Is that why you went to the wall? Because it would give you a chance to show you were worthy?”

“Sansa.” Her name barely escaped his mouth, he tried to say more but could not summon a single word. _This is too much._

“You were wrong, you still are. In King’s Landing, father once told me he would find me a man who was brave and gentle and strong. He was describing you, a son of Eddard Stark. You are a good man, Jon Snow, even if you do not know it right now. You belong here with us, you belong here with me. I did not love you as I should have then but I love my brother so very much now.”

_I am not a good man, Sansa. Killing comes easy to me now. And I have dreamed of fucking you. And you called me brother._

It was Jon’s turn to avoid contact with her eyes, looking at their feet almost pressed together. “I do not know what to say.” At that, he risked a glance up to look at her, saw love on her face.

“You could say you forgive me”, she quietly replied. Sansa was so close her words came out a whisper next to his ear, he could feel her breath against him.

“I forgave you a long time ago.” He grew quiet again, unsure how to give any further response. Jon had not expected this. He had come to her rooms to provide comfort and then remembered what Robb had said, _‘she cleans our scrapes’._ Jon’s response had been that Sansa was acting like a wife. She was still cleaning their scrapes.

“Sansa, have you ever heard the free folk use the phrase kissed by fire?  It’s what they call people with red hair, kissed by fire. The free folk believe those with hair kissed by fire are lucky. I think they are right. I think the old gods sent us to you.”

He still felt the weight of her hand on his chest.

 

*******

 

As Sansa listened to her brothers speak later that night, any doubts she had were gone. They were planning war and had never spoken a word of it too her. Even worse, their bannermen knew, the letters Robb and Jon had been receiving made that clear enough. Her brothers were careful in their choice of words, they spoke merely of ships rather than war galleys, but household counts always contained details on the number and types of fighting men each House could provide, whether they were petty lords, a masterly house, or landed knights. They were counting on her ignorance but she had seen men prepare for war, she knew what it looked like.

Not quite ready to reveal her own secrets, Sansa turned her thoughts to Jon’s revelation this morning. Jon did not share easily, it was a great trust he had given by telling her of the free folk babe. His confession only confirmed what she had suspected soon after coming home, her brothers were broken men. Sansa had spared little thought to how they would have changed since she last saw them, had almost expected to see the same two boys she had left behind all those years ago. But, their time apart had worn at them both,  Jon was drifting, seeming almost indifferent to his existence and she witnessed fits of temper from him that he had never displayed in his youth. And Robb, in her first days at Winterfell, he had almost clung to her, as if he was a frightened child or that she was a long lost lover who would be stolen away if he ever let go. Sansa did not know which.

It felt as if that was to be her fate in life, to always be surrounded by broken men who looked to her for redemption. Sansa remembered The Hound in a night filled with green fire, she had felt his tears and given him a song. Ser Dontos, even as he sold her for silver, wished to cast himself as her true knight. And Tyrion, he would look on her with a frightening hunger in his eyes. Sweetrobin wanted a mother’s comfort and would nuzzle at her breast. They were all broken, just like her brothers. Sansa had not known what to do at first and then she remembered her father. Sansa knew little of Robert’s Rebellion, it was a time neither of her parents spoke of, the memories painful.  He had lost his father and brother both and then his sister had been raped by Prince Rhaegar. Her aunt Lyanna was already dead by the time her father found her, he had come too late. So, Sansa did as her mother had. She took care of her brothers, offered them comfort. She could not fix them but she could help. _And I have helped, I know I have. And now I will be the one to break them all over again._

“I know what you two speak of.” Jon and Robb stopped their conversation at that and turned to look at her. “You both believe you have been careful in choosing your words but I know what you are planning. I suppose you mean to protect me, perhaps? There is no need, I know.”

They were both silent, as if to struggling to pick their next words. It was Robb who spoke first. “And what are we talking of?” he asked, his voice carefully even.

“War. And I know what is coming, I know just as well as you both.” _It is time, I am done with secrets._

“What do you think is coming?” It was Jon’s turn to speak.

“The dead. Winter. The long night. The cold. I have known since before I left the Vale. I told you both how I came home last night, but I never told you why. My courage had left me. But you need to know even as you will wish you did not.” She could hear the tremble in her voice. Her stomach began to twist in pain.

“Sansa…” Robb reached towards her hand and held on, his thumb stroked the inside of her palm for a moment. It was meant as reassurance but it made Sansa feel worse. _My sweet Robb...I am so sorry._  She gave him a brief smile before returning her hand to her lap.

“In the Vale, Lady appeared to me, night after night, in my dreams….”

“Lady is dead, Sansa.”

“I know Jon, but believe me, it was her. I know it was. In my dreams, I was her, alone in a frozen world. The cold would grow and grow, eventually over taking me. Then one night, the dream changed, two other wolves appeared. They were in shadow, I did not know them. But, every night it was the same. Wolves in shadow, they would follow me and keep watch. Eventually, the cold would come and take us all. I have always felt Lady’s presence with me, even after the Lannisters killed her. Surely you both have your own connections to your wolves?”

They looked at each other briefly, deciding which one to speak.

“We slip into them sometimes. Our minds can go in their body. It is not something we speak of”, Robb whispered. It was an admittance neither of them wanted to give her.

“I could not say if this was the same, but I tell you true, it was Lady. But, after I left the Vale, my dreams changed again. I could see the other wolves now, one grey and the other white but I had changed. It was no longer Lady’s fur I could see, it had changed to red. The three wolves together in the cold. More, there was -”

“I believe you Sansa, I believe every word.”

Sansa looked at Jon then, his face had gone pale, she could almost call his expression fear.

“Jon?” Robb questioned, clearly trying to understand all he had been told.

Jon bent forward for a moment, his hands briefly rubbing his forehead. “I never told you before, I have never spoken of it, hoped I never had to. After I came back, I wanted to run away, maybe to go the Free Cities. It was the red witch who did it, sent me to you Robb. Just before leaving Castle Black, she told me of a vision she had. Three wolves in the cold, those were the same words she used. One grey, one white, and one kissed by fire. Melisandre thought the third was her, she wanted me to take her to you, Robb. She was wrong though, she was always wrong. Wolves have no need of a fire god. Kissed by fire is how the free folk describe those with red hair. Hair like you, Sansa.”

She pushed back tears at that, felt a small hope they would not think her mad.

“Did she tell you the rest? After I left the Vale, I knew it was Ghost and Grey Wind. It had been years since I last saw either direwolf, but I knew them. There is more you must know. The dream had changed in another way. Between the three wolves was a pup, protected by her two fathers and mother and another pup was growing in me. And the cold was gone. It has been the same every night since, weeks and weeks, with one small change since crossed the Neck.”

“A small change. This seems like a rather large one to me”, Robb said, his voice flat. He had his head down, refusing to meet her eyes.

“There were seven pups with us, seven with their fathers and mother. It has not changed once since I have been in the North. It is the same dream night after night. I could not tell you why, but it is Lady, she’s trying to help. I know she is.”

“Seven.” Robb’s voice came out a croak.

“Seven”, Jon quietly echoed.

“Do you hate me?”, her voice was pleading, she could not help that.

Robb finally looked at her for the first time since she had began her tale. “No, I don’t hate you Sansa. We could never hate you. I am struggling, I admit, to understand what it all means.”

“I believe Robb, we have just been told Sansa is going to have our child, seven all together if I heard correctly. And if we hope to survive what comes, we need her. Is that about the right of it?” His voice was even but Sansa heard the trace of anger under it.

“Bastards? You want us to put bastards in you? Sansa, surely you do not mean…”

“No Robb, she means we should we marry. Those were wolves she saw. Do I have the right of it?” There was no mistaking the anger now.

“And how exactly would we do that Jon? Do you know what our bannermen would do? After that wedding, after their losses? We would have a mutiny, they would rise up as if we were Targararyens come again”.

Sansa could not stay quiet at that, she could at least reassure her brother about this. “No Robb, I am certain they will not. I rather expect they will insist on us marrying. The only part I am not certain of is who will make the proposal to you. Whoever it is, your bannermen, they will support it.”

They both started at her, their faces wore twin expressions, a swirling mix of confusion, pain, and disappointment.  For a very brief moment, she would swear hope passed through Jon’s features but it was gone.

“And how would you know that?”, Robb huffed.

“I know that because I began to prepare for our wedding while still in the Riverlands, travelling with the Lannister army. I hired singers with Jaime’s gold, they now play songs of us three, of how we will unite together and save the North from the long night, that our children will bring a long reign of peace and prosperity to our lands. I also directed them to spread tales of your valor and courage, a reminder that it has always been Starks who ruled and protected their people from the harshness of winter. After coming home, I also set myself to writing letters, establishing relationships with the ladies within several houses. After a while, their letters contained questions, written with care but the meaning was not lost, asking if the Starks were willing to do what was needed. I reassured them of our dedication and would undertake any sacrifice to protect our people. It is one of the reasons I visit Wintertown and meet with the women. They will influence their fathers and husbands who will speak to their liege lords. I can promise you, your people will insist upon a wedding. I wager you will hear from them very soon. Then, we will wed in the godswood here in Winterfell. I’m sorry, but I promised Lady we would do so. I promised.”

Jon and Robb did not speak. And did not speak. The strained silence went on until it was more than Sansa could endure. She could no longer stay there, the heavy weight of their gaze had become too much.

“Forgive me, I have grown tired. I will retire for the night.” With that, she ran from the room, Grey Wind and Ghost following quickly behind her.

Finally, reaching her bedchamber, she entered and barred the door behind her. Feeling numb, Sansa crawled onto her bed, the wolves on either side of her.

She woke the next morning to realize it was the first night both Ghost and Grey Wind had chosen to stay with her. _Jon and Robb will want their wolves back now._

 


	8. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple notes based upon past comments. I am following book canon as much as possible so using magic as it appears there as much as I can. So, Jon has prophetic dreams, all the kids are wargs and possibly skin changers, green dreams are possible, and so on. Also, smut is coming. I hope no one is disappointed in how long it has taken to get to there. If plans work out, there are three more chapters to go.
> 
> Finally, I ended up typing most of this out on an ipad so hopefully the grammar is not horrible. If you see major mistakes, let me now and I will correct it.

They were avoiding her, there was no other explanation. It had been three days since Sansa told them of her dreams, three days of silence. The morning after, she had met them in the great hall to break their fast as usual. But, sitting up on the dais, surrounded by both her brothers and the Winterfell household, Sansa had felt as alone as she had in King’s Landing. Robb and Jon did not speak a word during the meal and she was certain others in the hall could sense the tension between the three of them. Each meal had become more miserable than the one before, Sansa had begun to remember a long ago dinner with Tyrion rather fondly, listening to him praise overcooked pease.

This morning found her in the godswood, on her knees by the heart tree, lost in her prayers. Her mother’s sept had been destroyed but Sansa felt no great urgency to rebuild it. It was the old gods, the Northern gods, that called loudly to her now. Brienne was a quiet presence on the other side of the hot springs, granting her privacy in her devotions. She prayed for news of her brother Bran, and sister Arya, little Rickon, her Sweetrobin to have a chance to grow, Jaime’s return, and Brienne to know some happiness. Most of all, Sansa prayed for Jon and Robb, to forgive her and to love her again.

Sansa felt a light wind against her skin, the red leaves of the heart tree gently rustling.  _ The gods have heard me today, there is hope. _

She stood and turned towards Brienne. “Would you join me on a ride in the wolfswood? Perhaps we could spend the day away from the confines of these castle walls? I thought we could get food from the kitchens and make a day of it.” The keep had begun to feel almost oppressive, she needed to escape.

“I am your shield, Sansa. We go where you wish it.” It had become an unspoken agreement between them, speaking to each other in a more familiar manner when alone. Brienne reserved use of Lady or Princess with others around, fastidious to remind them of Sansa’s status. 

They were both dressed for time outside, wearing cloaks and furs. A brief visit to the kitchens gave them bread, cheese, and fruit to eat. Sansa waited in the courtyard, close to the livery for their horses to be saddled and brought out while Brienne went to fetch Pod to have him join as well. She would want another guard for Sansa once they passed Winterfell’s gates. 

Sansa looked towards the maester’s turret and saw her brothers speaking with the new maester, a Dornishmen by the name of Olyvar. His father had been a landless knight, in service to House Dayne. She had been satisfied with his selection. The man came from low enough rank so there were no worries of his allegiance and no enmity to be concerned over between Martell and Stark. 

Robb and Jon sensed her presence, both breaking away from their conversation to look upon her. It was then Brienne brought out their horses and they prepared to leave. Grey Wind and Ghost, with her as always, looked briefly towards their masters before turning away to join her.  _ I took your wolves. Good. _

They travelled slowly, horses at almost a walk, west towards a branch of the White Knife. As children, Sansa and her siblings had sometimes played in the river water. Eventually, they stopped at a set of flat rocks by to rest and eat. Pod had barely spoken a word, a habit Sansa had long grown used too. 

“Do you wish to return home Brienne? Evenfall?”

Her face took on an expression of surprise, she had not expected that. “No. Not now. Someday, perhaps. I swore a vow to your mother and I swore to you. Not yet.”

“I wish you to stay, Brienne. You have become a friend to me, did you know? We are more alike than it may seem.”

“I am not like you, Sansa. Dresses do not suit me. I was meant to hold a sword in my hand.”

“And we both know what happened because of it. I did everything expected of me, Brienne, and got mocked, beaten, and called stupid. Yet, I continued to tell myself there must still be true knights in this world and here you are. In some ways, we both see the world as it should be, not as it is. I hope you never lose that.” At that, she reached out to clasp her friend’s hand, enjoying the companionship between the two of them.

Brienne did not speak after her declaration and Sansa pushed no further, it would only cause her friend discomfort.

“And now my escape must end. Shall we return to Winterfell? I have several letters on my desk waiting for me.”

_ Not my brothers though. Robb and Jon no longer wish for my presence. _

 

******

 

They had not spoken to Sansa in five days, it now felt as if the three of them were in a battle of wills. Robb was certain it would not be him or Jon that would emerge the victor if their current behavior could be considered proof. They were sparring together in the training yard, it was an afternoon ritual neither could go without. Today though, they had both decided to direct five days of frustration and misery on each other. They bled from cuts on their arms, chests, and backs, blunted swords the only thing saving them from more serious injury. Sweat had mixed with the dust on their faces and in their hair, he was certain they looked a fright. Worse, he could see the growing crowd, watching the king and his brother fight. Their behavior had been noticed, they were acting as green boys, eager to prove themselves.  _ We are being fools. We must end this. _

Robb threw his sword and leapt at his brother, hoping to knock him down. But, his bigger size was of no help, Jon was faster. Robb saw him draw back his fist as if to strike and began screaming Jon’s name, he knew a rage had taken over his brother. Finally, Jon reeled forward, pulling back his arm, returning to himself. 

“Are you alright, brother?”  _ Well, that was a stupid question. _

Apparently, Jon agreed, given the flat look on his face. “Yes, I am quite well. Thank you.”

“You are an ass, Snow.” 

“As are you, Stark.” 

They both drank water from cups given them by his squire when Maester Olyvar approached, carrying letters in his hand. 

“Excuse me your grace, these just arrived by raven.”

Robb took them and looked at the seals. 

“Manderly and Reed. Here, take one”, he said, handing Jon one of the sealed missives. 

After a moment, Jon spoke. “”Howland Reed will be here in two days time. He wishes to meet the children of his friend Ned Stark, now they have returned to Winterfell. There is nothing else.”

“Read this”, said Robb, handing over Manderly’s letter. 

_ To Robb Stark, King in the North King of the Trident, Lord of Winterfell, the Young Wolf and Jon Snow,  Royal Prince, King’s Hand, the White Wolf _

_ I arrive in Winterfell two days from now and will have the honor of returning the young Lord Rickon to you. Lord Robett Glover, the Lady Dustin, and Ser Davos Seaworth accompany us on our travels. We would request a private audience with the both of you upon our arrival. _

_ House Manderly remembers the promise made in the Wolf’s Den, we remain Stark men.  We will hold true to our vows and continue our support of House Stark in the days to come. We Remember, as The North Remembers. _

_ Your Loyal Vassal _

_ Wyman Manderly, Lord of White Harbor, Warden of the White Knife, Shield of the Faith _

“Someone has a liking for titles”,said Jon with a chuckle devoid of humor. 

“No doubt our sister will soon be proven correct”, replied Robb, ignoring the earlier statement. 

At that, he looked around, noting the number of men in the training yard. The tension between the two of them and Sansa had not gone unnoticed within the castle walls. Worse, Robb was certain members of their household blamed him and Jon for the estrangement. It had not taken Sansa long to earn their people’s love.

Jon seemed to have noticed as well. “Too many ears here. The godswood?”

They walked slowly, the cool breeze drying their sweat on their bodies, a soft comfort after their session. It took only a few moments for them to reach the wierwood, standing across from each other, tree roots between them. 

“Her wolf is dead, Jon. I helped bury her myself. Her dreams, if they are real, they came from the old gods.” Robb was still unsure how much he believed.  _ Believing is not the same as wanting… _

“I told you both true that night, Robb. I believe her, whether it was a wolf, gods, or a witch that sent them to her. Sansa didn’t see everything in those dreams of hers, she does not know as much as she think she does.”

“Do you wish for us to tell her? I would not make that decision for you, brother.” 

Jon’s expression was pained, the tension in his body clearly visible. He placed both hands at the bridge of his nose and rubbed for a moment before answering. “No, it would change nothing and only cause her grief. I would rather we not speak of it with her, not until we have no choice.”

This was a discussion that hurt them both. Robb would prefer it never came up at all, it felt cruel to Jon.  “We should tell her of Theon. She should know.”  _ Much better. _

Jon’s face twisted at that, this was another topic he did not wish to speak of. “Sansa would grant him mercy.”

Robb had his doubts, Sansa was still a very kind person but there was a certain pragmatism in her now he did not remember from their youth. “ If she did, would you agree to her decision?” he asked. 

“I would listen to her argument. Past that, I could not say. I will agree to telling her, that is all I can promise for now.”

Robb sat down, resting his back on the heart tree, the carved face just above him. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to consider his next words. It was a struggle, he felt conflicted and was quite certain his brother did as well. Robb wanted Sansa, had been captivated by her since her return. He wanted her in a way a brother should not want his sister. He loved her as a brother should not love his sister. And Robb had come to realize he did not care. The three of them had been through years of misery, experienced more pain than anyone should and it was not yet over. If he could find some small piece of comfort, Robb would take it. Even so, try as he might, Robb had not yet succeeded in dispelling the anger he felt. She had deceived them both and the hurt over that knowledge had not left him.

“There is no reason to bother discussing Manderly’s letter, is there Jon? We are both going to agree, you know this as well as I do. Do you think me blind?” Robb had seen how his brother looked at Sansa, it was a mirror of his own. 

At this, Robb opened his eyes just as Jon turned away from him, staring out over the godswood, refusing to speak. 

“Seven Hells brother, I am not angry with you. Believe me, I understand."

Jon said nothing to that. “You can be as stiff and unyielding as that damned wall of yours”, Robb huffed. 

Robb studied the weirwood branches above him for a moment and noticed a raven peering back at him. “I believe that is the very same raven I saw last time we came here”, he said absentmindedly before continuing, “Jon, you know we will end up marrying her. You will need to talk to me eventually.”

The raven leapt from its branch and flew between them. They watched it fly across the hot springs and to Sansa who stood there, gawking at them both, her mouth open. Grey Wind and Ghost were in attendance as they so often were lately, one on each side of her. She said nothing, choosing to turn and quickly walk away. 

“I saw a raven do that once before”, said Jon, a queer expression on his face. 

Robb had reached his end, he could take no more. “I am going to talk to her, this can not continue between us. You should clean up, you could frighten the dead away.”

At that, Robb left Jon behind in the godswood to seek out their sister, stopping in his rooms to wash his face and change into a clean tunic. 

He found her alone, seated at a desk in her solar. The wolves were nearby as always, enjoying the sunlight entering through a window. Robb idly wondered if Sansa had yet realized why he and Jon were so content for the wolves to be in her company. 

She rose from her seat, her face a carefully controlled mask, and curtsied.“Your grace, did you require my assistance?”

_ Is that today's game? Sadly for you, I do not wish to play.  _

“Yes, there are a great many tasks I require your assistance with”, he replied, not quite able to keep the trace of annoyance from his voice. 

Sansa moved away from her desk towards a nearby table. “May I offer refreshments, your grace? My apologies,there is no ale in my rooms, I can only offer wine.” Her voice was even, she would give nothing away.

She used her words as battle armor. It had been the same for days.  _ Are your pease cooked to your satisfaction, your grace? I hope your day is pleasant, your highness.  _ Robb found himself growing angry. 

He walked towards her slowly, stopping a single footstep away. Sansa would find it difficult to move, trapped between his body and the table. He took her hand to prevent her pouring the wine, clasping it in his own and resting them against the small of her back. He saw Sansa’s eyes grow wide at that but she said nothing. One more step and Robb would feel her chest against his own.

Robb thought for a moment on what to say next.  _ If she wishes to help her king then I will let her do so.  _ “I would like turnips when we dine tonight. See that is taken care of”, he said, keeping his voice deliberately low. After a moment, he added, “Creamed turnips. I will require creamed turnips.”  _ Fuck, I hate turnips. _

Sansa said nothing but Robb did not fail to miss the flush appearing on her perfect cheeks. He leaned in closer so she could feel his breath on her neck, his lips almost touching her ear and whispered, “I will also require fresh berries, sweet bread, and roasted ham to break my fast tomorrow. Will you assist with that, Sansa?” 

Her face remained as controlled as ever, eyes focused past his shoulder but the skin on her neck and chest had turned a beautiful shade of pink. “Yes, your grace.”

Robb took the final step, his body following hers as she leaned back across the table. “We need a new tapestry for the guard’s hall, a battle scene. Will you help with that as well?”

Sansa looked at him then, her eyes had grown bigger, her breath heavier. “Yes”, her voice a light sigh.  _ I just pierced her armor. _

At that, Robb considered stepping away, shifting their conversation to safer topics, but then he took in the sight of her. Sansa was even more beautiful, the worst of temptations and he changed his mind.  _ I want more.  _

Sansa was still caught, his body preventing her escape, her hand still encased in one of his. With his other, Robb brought it to her hip and lightly stroked. He leaned in to her once more, his mouth against her cheek, not quite reaching her lips. “It would also please me to have a new tunic, a grey one. Will you assist with that?”

“It would please me to please you”,  she whispered, her voice strained. 

Robb turned his face so they were looking directly at each other, their breath mixing, lips not quite touching. 

“Sansa.”

“Robb.”

“I just shattered that armor of yours.”

With that, Robb let go of her and moved away. He began to prepare an apology, noticing what he thought to be anger on her face but then realized. Sansa was not angry, it was desire he saw. Her lovely blush, the deep breaths, her darkened eyes. It was desire. The knowledge left Robb stunned, he had not expected that. 

Not sure what to do, Robb walked towards the door to leave. “We will have guests arriving in two days. Will you make the needed arrangements? And join us tonight, there is much we need to discuss.” he said, his voice coming out harsher than he meant it too. 

_ Well, I handled that badly. _

Sansa did not appear at the evening meal, sending Brienne to plead illness. Worse, he was given creamed turnips to eat. 

 


	9. Reunion and Reconciliation Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning before reading this. There is groveling in here but I did not have a complete kiss and make up this chapter. It will be more gradual. Robb should also start earning his way back in to everyone's good graces. 
> 
> I hope everyone is happy with progress, this chapter has left me emotionally drained.

His brother was a thrice-damned fool, Jon could find no other explanation for it. Neither of them had seen Sansa since Robb had made a complete and utter ass of himself. They had attempted an apology but her shield took the role of nursemaid seriously, forbidding entry to her rooms. She could not avoid them today though, Rickon was coming home.

Sansa was gathering the household in the courtyard closest to the east gate, preparing to receive their guests as they would be arriving from the kingsroad. She had done everything needed, the guest house was perfect, great hall prepared, and readied the nursery for Rickon. Sansa had even prepared him and Robb with new clothes, sending her maid to deliver them for the first time. His brother had on a grey, linen tunic Jon had not seen before. He looked a man in pain.

He watched her talking with the castle blacksmith, Rodrik. Likely, making sure the man fell in love with her too.  Her dress was a similar color to Robb’s tunic, dark grey with slashes of white in her skirts, red weirwood leaves embroidered in the neckline and sleeves. He would call her beautiful but it was not enough, Sansa took his breath away, she made him ache from want. Jon had promised his brother he would ask her to talk with them that evening, judging he would meet with greater success. He walked towards her, rehearsing his words.

Drawing closer, he heard Rodrik speak, “..thank you m’lady. If you could speak to him for us, thank you.” With that, the blacksmith gave Sansa an awkward bow and walked away.

She had not noticed his presence, her thoughts elsewhere.

“Sansa?” It sounded a plea rather than a question. _I am pleading. I can beg too, if need be._

She turned to face him, the smile leaving her as she realized who spoke. Sansa stood still, looking back at him, her face expressionless. He understood, she would not speak first.

“Sansa, we were wondering...Robb and I that is….we hoped you would talk with us tonight. There are some things we wish to tell you”, Jon stammered. _I sound  an utter fool._

She looked at him, giving nothing away. “Are you angry with me Jon?”

He had not expected that, Jon had thought it more likely she would dismiss his request or simply walk away. He was not sure what to say or how to explain. “No! No, I am not angry.” It was the simple truth.

“Then why have you refused to speak with me?” At this, Jon looked at her features closely, hoping to understand what she wanted.

“I did not know what to do so I did nothing. I was wrong.” As Jon uttered the words, he realized just how pathetic they were. It was a sorry excuse, she deserved better. “Are you angry with me?” Jon suspected he already knew the answer to that question.

“Yes. I will think on tonight. Enjoy your day, Jon.” She turned and began to walk away. But she said his name and Jon would take that as a victory, minor though it was.

“Sansa?” He called out, wishing to offer her something.

She turned back to look at him, staying silent.

“Robb, he hates turnips."

At that, she left him but he did not miss the small smile that momentarily appeared. It was a start and Jon was grateful for it.

Soon enough, their visitors arrived, Manderly, Reed, Glover, and Dustin along with their squires, pages, men at arms, and other household members. Robb was present rather than waiting in the great hall, Sansa deciding he should be there to greet Rickon. Jon checked and was pleased to see no knights or men at arms from either House Dustin or House Ryswell, Robb’s plan seemed to be working well.

Manderly came first, offering his greetings to Robb first and then him before turning to Sansa and bowing low, at least as well as the man was able.

“Lady Stark, it is a great honor to see you here again in Winterfell.”

Sansa gave him a gentle smile and placed her hand upon his arm, it looked like a child’s next to Manderly’s great size. “Lord Manderly, we owe you a great debt. You brought our brother home to us, you have my most sincere thanks. If I may ask, how fares your son Ser Wylis? I heard tales of his bravery while in King’s Landing. It gave me hope to know that even as I was a prisoner, northmen such as him were fighting.”

Jon watched the exchange, taken aback. Sansa had just made herself a devoted ally with only a few words of praise. Wyman was known to be a doting father.

Finally, little Rickon came forward, their brother finally home. He was still so young, barely even three the last time Jon had seen him. Now, he looked exactly as their brother Robb had as a young child, dark auburn hair and blue eyes.

Once again, it was Sansa who led the way. She got down on her knees to be at eye level with him and spoke first. He could see the tears in her eyes. “Hello Rickon, do you remember me?”

The boy seemed uncertain for a moment before answering. “Yes, you’re my sister Sansa and that’s Jon and Robb, my brothers. Our mother is dead, I saw her in a dream. She had a hole in her heart. Our father is dead too, he talked to me in the crypts. But Bran and Arya are not dead, they’re just gone.” Robb and Jon looked at each other, Rickon’s words were frightening.

“Yes, they are. I miss them all very much. Could I give you a hug Rickon?” Jon was certain she was deliberately avoiding responding to Rickon’s words but he did not miss the tears slowly falling down her cheeks.

The boy almost launched himself into her arms, nuzzling her neck. Jon could wait no longer, he got down to put his arms around his little brother and saw Robb doing the same. They stayed there for awhile, enjoying the moment. Finally, they released him but Robb grabbed their brother and picked him up. Jon could hear them speaking quietly to each other. It was cruel, Rickon’s first day back yet he and Robb would be forced to spend it with their bannermen.

Eventually, Sansa took charge of Rickon while he went with Robb to the great hall. Sansa had prepared one of the meeting rooms for them and they had a few minutes alone while their guests refreshed themselves in their rooms.

“Are you ready to talk now?”

Jon had been dreading this moment, he knew Robb would eventually demand answers from him. Only, Jon did not know what to say. Sansa had thought it was only her he avoided but that was not right. He had been avoiding this moment with Robb too, but his brother would not let him do so.

“There is nothing to say.” It was a deflection, Jon knew it, and a poor one at that.

Robb sighed, making his frustration known. “Yes, there is. Quite a lot actually. You think you’ve kept it hidden away, that I did not know what you have been wanting. If you believe that, then you are a fool. I told you already, I am not angry with you.”

“Robb, please”, he said, his voice almost desperate. His brother thought he knew but he was wrong. Jon wanted Sansa, he wanted the marriage, he wanted everything she spoke of in her dreams. Now, it was as if the spirit of Catelyn Stark had come to haunt him. He had imagined himself between her daughter’s legs and would be partially stealing her children’s birthright. He had fled to The Watch in part to show that he could be as honorable and true a son to Eddard Stark as Robb was. Now his brother wanted Jon to admit he was truly a baseborn bastard, with a bastard’s lusts.

His brother moved to stand before him, arms crossed, his face filled with sympathy. _Maybe Robb does know. Maybe….no._ “All right, if you will not speak then I will.  What I did to her, it was wrong. I know it. I hurt her, we both did. We lost her trust and I think I know what we must do.”

“Get down on our knees and follow her around, begging forgiveness?” said Jon, in a voice almost mocking. He did not mean it to, Jon felt at a loss.

Robb rolled his eyes before responding “Do not be daft, brother. No. We are going to court her, the way she would want us too.”

He seemed to think it obvious but Jon felt only confusion. “Court her? With poetry and songs? Robb, I don’t think she would like that much at all, not after what we did.”

Robb gave a loud sigh before replying, “No, not that. Think of what she had told us and what she had done. Sansa wanted our trust, she wanted to be listened to. She has been offering help to us both since she arrived. So, that’s what we’ll do, Jon. Besides, neither of us know how to play the harp or bells. We would lose the respect of our bannermen if any of them saw us.” The last part came out on a laugh.

At that, the room began to fill as their men entered. Their conversation was at an end but not before he heard a whispered “You are a good man, Jon, even if you do not know that right now.” before his brother left to sit at the head of the table.

The meeting was largely a chore, mostly  taxes and trade. Then, talk turned to Sansa, it went just as she predicted it would. They would be married in two days, in the Winterfell godswood. Jon allowed himself to feel hope.

After, they went in search of Sansa and Rickon, eager to spend time with their little brother, finding them at play in the godswood with Ser Davos and Brienne in attendance.Noticing them both, Rickon called out, showing off his wooden sword, using it to save Sansa from a dragon.

Robb’s response was instant, “Make that two dragons”, he said with a laugh.

So, the four of them began to play, just as they once did as children. Jon could almost see Bran and Arya with them.

 

****

 

Robb felt young again, playing in the godswood with his siblings. After awhile, he realized they had been noticed. Manderly, Glover, and Reed were watching them at play, with men of their households with them.  

As they played, he saw Robbett Glover approach Sansa and bow. “My Lady, if you would allow me, I would swear myself to you and help rid our lands of dragons."

Sansa smiled brightly, Robb did not miss the men looking at her. “Kind ser, I accept your service.  Will you assist my noble brother and save this fair maiden?”

As the game went on, he noticed the looks of cheer on the men around him. He understood, most had faced years of battle and war, watching a child’s fantasy offered escape for a time. _Sansa did this._

Eventually, Rickon grew tired and their game ended to prepare for that evening’s feast. It would be a small affair but Sansa had arranged for extra ale and music along with food brought in with Manderly.  After a quick clean up, Robb and Jon walked into the great hall together, making their way to the long table in the front of the room and sat at the center, Jon to his left. After a moment, Sansa walked in, wearing a different dress with her braid now gone. Her hair fell loose down her back, shining in the torchlight. Robb had seen that dress before, light blue with their wolves on it. That dress was the same one she wore when telling them her dream. _The same dress she wore when we pushed her away._

Sansa took her place to his right but gave them both a short greeting, choosing to spend her meal talking with their guests. As the food was brought out, Robb saw creamed turnips again and felt a panic.

“Are you pleased? I wanted you to have some tonight, I remember you liked creamed turnips.” Robb turned to Sansa, surprised that she had spoken to him. He saw her smile, it was genuine. 

“Yes, very pleased. Thank you Sansa, for thinking of me.”

Her eyes lit up at that, he had made her happy. Robb looked at his plate and wanted to cry.

After awhile, the tables were moved aside and Sansa left to join in the dancing. He and Jon watched her, she danced with Howland Reed and a couple of Crannongmen, several Manderly knights, and Robbett Glover. She stood out in the room, even from a distance he could see the flashes of copper and sunlight in her hair.

A booming laugh came from Wyman Manderly, he looked over to see the man watching Sansa too. “Your grace, I can not decide if they will be calling your sister the red wolf or the winter rose of the North. I must needs beg her for a dance before I lose my chance.”

Alone on the dais, Robb turned to face his brother, he looked a misery. Robb let out a sigh of frustration, if his brother would not speak, then he would.

“Jon?”

Having gained his attention, Robb began “I am going to tell you some things and I suggest you listen closely. I am in love with Sansa. I am so desperately in love with our sister, there are times when I am no longer capable of forming a thought. I dream of  her naked, in my bed, in our bed. I wish to see her without her dress on. I want to make her laugh and make her smile. I want her to know she is loved by both of us, that  she is trusted by both of us. More, I am going to try my damndest to fix what we broke. You think you are some sort of monster for what you are feeling. If that is so Jon, then what am I? Now, I am going to find our sister and beg her to dance with me. You may enjoy your brooding in peace.”

Robb left to seek out Sansa, calling her name when he found her talking to one of the Winterfell men.  The relaxed smile she wore tightened just a bit when she took him in. But, he had guessed correctly, she would not refuse him in front of everyone.

He led her to the floor and the music started.

“I would guess every man you have danced with tonight has called you beautiful.”

“You would guess correctly”, she said with a smirk. “Do you also think me beautiful?”

He thought on what to say, she wanted more than an acknowledgement of her beauty. “I always think you beautiful Sansa. But tonight, I would say you look a warrior queen.” He was sincere. Sansa looked fierce and strong, she could persuade any man in the room to do her bidding.

His words almost stopped her movements, she had not expected that. “Robb, no. I can not use a sword nor can I lead armies.” Sansa said that almost as if it was a failing of hers.

“You have your own type of sword Sansa. You use your words and your courtesy as if they were the strongest of weapons, I have seen you do it myself. I once did not understand their importance and we all paid dearly for it. We need you to make sure that never happens again. And Sansa, believe me, you could lead men through all the seven hells and they would follow happily.”

At that, the music ended and he bowed to her, preparing to walk away.

“Robb, Jon said you both wished to speak with me tonight. I will come see you both, after I put little Rickon to bed.”

He flashed her a grin, it was more than he hoped for.

Later than night found him and Jon in his solar, only a short wait until Sansa joined. They both stood up from their chairs and Jon passed the cup of wine already poured for her.

Robb opened his mouth, to begin telling her all the words he had prepared, “Sansa, we -”

Sansa interrupted, standing before them both. He did not see anger but her body looked stiff and the usual warmth in her eyes was missing. She spoke, her voice firm. “No. If you want me to listen then you must do so first. You have both shoved me aside, ignored me, made me feel a stranger in my own home, and you”, she paused to look at him, “you took everything I did for you both, my efforts to show I loved you, and you hurt me with it. It was cruel. Did either of you know I have prayed every day, on my knees at the heart tree, begging the gods for you to forgive me and to love me again? I can tell by your faces that you did not. If all you have to offer is apologies then do not. Give me more, give me better. If you can not do that, then do not try.”

It was as Robb expected but he took some hope from her words. She wanted more than apologies, they could do that. They could give more.

He took a breath and began, “We were wrong, we know it, Jon and I. First, I would tell you that I believe you, about your dream and what you saw. I confess, I do not entirely understand why you saw what you did but I believe it. You have been right about everything and you were right about this visit. You did what we could not, you made it easy for us.”

He paused for a moment to look at her, she was listening, she had not dismissed him yet. It gave him the courage to go on. “We also wish to tell you about our wolves, about Grey Wind and Ghost. We can slip into them, see what they see, go where they go. Jon and I are wargs, we think all of us are, including you. But, what we have hidden is that we watch you, Jon and I watch you, to see you.”

Her eyes grew big at that and Robb realized the conclusion she had drawn.

“No, Sansa, not that way. We check on you sometimes, to see that you are well. We have seen you sleeping, I have joined you on walks with your shield, watched you at needlework. But we have not seen you undressed or in your bath. We made sure to stay away from that. Are you upset with us?”

Her face was pained. “I am hurt but not in the way you think. Lady was killed and I will never do what either of you can. Even our little Rickon has Shaggy.  It feels as if a part of me is missing.”

Robb wanted to embrace her upon hearing those words but he could not, he had lost that right.

“There is more, Theon is here, in Winterfell. He is a hostage of sorts, kept as part of an agreement with his sister, Asha Greyjoy. Jon and I have argued over what to do with him, mostly we try not to think on it.”

“Theon? How could I not know? I would like to see him”, she said, clearly shocked. This revelation had come as a surprise.

It was Jon who explained. “He is kept in a cell in the broken tower, he does not have visitors. No one speaks of him, I believe our people prefer to pretend he does not exist. He is very different than you remember but you can see him.  However, we would have you take one of us with you if you do so, it would be easier for you.”

“Why? Do you not trust me with him?” She had not liked hearing that.

“No, it is not a matter of trust. He is not well and I do not like to see him alone. You will be glad to have one of us there afterwards.”

She said nothing to that but nodded her head, accepting the condition.

Robb watched his brother, Jon had closed his eyes and began rubbing his beard. He was nervous.

“There is something else I wish to tell you Sansa, something I have been frightened to speak of before now but Robb made me realize I needed to do so. I told you that I believed you and that I was not angry but I did not explain. I was a man of the watch and swore a vow, to never take a wife or father children.  But secretly, I wanted both, and felt great shame over it. Then you came back and we were here at Winterfell and I could almost pretend that you...and then when you told us, it was as if you handed me all my secret desires even as I should not have them. So, I stayed away from you and I thought you should know why.”

It was Robb’s turn now. “Earlier tonight, I told you that we needed your courtesy and way with words. I meant that. If we are to rule, we need someone that can build relationships, handle matters of diplomacy, use words the way you do. Jon and I, we can not do that.”

“Are you asking me to offer advice, to assist you in ruling?

She had it wrong, he had not been clear. “No, Sansa. We want you to rule with us. I almost lost the north because I discounted what you did. I would have you make sure it does not happen again.

“We are not asking for your forgiveness. Jon and I, we want you to know we hope to earn your trust back, for you to know we do trust you, to know that you are loved, very deeply. And, we wanted you to know…” he finished lamely.”

The room was quiet for a moment. Jon alternated between looking at his feet and Sansa, tension was radiating from him.

He did not know Sansa’s thoughts, she could hide herself away from them so easily. “All right, trust. We will start there.” Her gaze moved between him and Jon as she said that before giving them one of her soft smiles, the smile he had not seen in so long. Robb loved that smile.

_Hope, I have hope._

  



	10. Wedding and Reconciliation Pt. 2

Sansa looked out the window of her bed chamber and took in the sight of Winterfell in the morning light. The sky was a dull grey and a light winter snow fell from sky, the few clouds visible seemed to form a wolf, Stark colors. It was a sign from the old gods, they approved of her match. She would be wed today by the heart tree, surrounded by the grey and white of her House. 

She needed to dress, it would soon be time for the morning meal. Her wedding gown was a new one, grey lambswool striped with raw silk in the folds of her skirts, lending a subtle sheen as she moved. Snowflakes were embroidered along the chest and arms, lending the appearance of a winter storm.  _ A winter gown and a Stark wedding cloak. _ Her lady’s maid, Mari, helped her to dress, she could not do the lacing in the back. 

Sansa walked to her dressing table to braid her hair, she wanted to wear it in a northern style that day. It was as she reached for her brush that Sansa saw them. Laying next to the looking glass were two new hair clips, resting on a single blue winter rose. The clips were silver with a trim of lacquered red wolves. _It’s me._ _The red wolf, they gave me a name like them._ She picked them up, the work was exquisite. “Mari, I will be leaving my hair down today it would seem.”

The first gift had appeared two nights ago when she went to talk with Robb and Jon again. Coming back to her rooms, Sansa found bolts of heavy silk fabric waiting for her, dark blue, grey, white, dark purple, lilac, and a light blue. Amongst them were several blue roses. She had woken up the next morning to find the collection had grown with more velvet fabrics in the same colors. Since then, she had been finding winter roses all over Winterfell, her chair in the great hall, hidden away in her riding cloak and gloves, and on her writing desk. They had said nothing to her but Sansa knew the gifts came from Robb and Jon. 

Ready, Sansa walked to her solar to find Brienne waiting in a chair and the wolves resting by the fire as they often did in the mornings. Neither Ghost or Grey Wind had spent much time with their masters the past fortnight, she was beginning to think the change was permanent. Shaggy was a worry for her though, he was wild, almost feral, lacking the training of his brothers. Something would need to be done about that although Sansa did not know what. 

“Brienne, would he be at Riverrun by now, do you think?” She avoided Jaime’s name, her maid was in the room.

“I would believe so, yes, Lady Stark. Or very soon.” 

Further conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door which Mari opened to give Robb admittance. Memories of Robb’s last visited suddenly returned to her but she had company this time.  _ Why are you here? _

He made no move to enter the room further, staying by the door. “Sansa, may I speak with you alone for a moment?” His voice was even but she could see it, he was not sure of her answer. 

“Brienne, Mari, will you leave us for a moment. The wolves can stay here with me.”

Once they were alone, Robb spoke again, “I won’t be coming any closer, I’ll stay here, right by the door. I promise”, he said, sincerity in his voice.  At her nod of acceptance, he continued, “I came to tell you a few things. First, Jon and I, we spoke about tonight and agreed. We don’t expect anything after the wedding, whatever you wish to do, we will do. I also wanted to tell you that I will not touch you again, not until you tell me I can. Other than the ceremony that is. Also, here are two keys, they are for our writing desks. This way, you can see everything Jon and I are working on, every letter and proposal, every piece of correspondence. We will have a final meeting with the lords in two more days before they return home. I meant what I said about you ruling, I would like you to attend, if you would wish it.” At this, he placed the two keys on a nearby table and waited for her response. 

His words were a bit stiff to her ears, Sansa’s heart ached a bit to realize Robb had practiced before speaking to her, unsure of his reception. She wanted to stay angry with him but that feeling was slowly passing by the hour. “I would wish it. I have a few proposals for the both of you, an idea for your blacksmith problem and some other suggestions.” At that, she gave him a smile, it was genuine. His request for her help meant more than any compliment on her beauty.

He gave a grin in return, his whole face had lit up. He turned serious again though, readying himself for further confession.  “There is more. During the war, while you were in King’s Landing, I should have come for you. I should have done what is necessary to save you but I was afraid. I told our mother that I could not, that our lords would unmake me their king if I did. I told her I thought the battles would be the hard part but I was wrong about that. I should have listened to her, instead I made a botch of everything. 

And what I did, I want you to know I am sorry. You were in pain and it took courage to tell us the way you did but I was selfish and could not see that. I came here that day to talk but instead I became angry and decided to use everything you have done for us to hurt you. It fills me with shame to admit it, but I wanted to touch you too, not as a brother would. This is not about forgiveness, I do not ask for that. But, we promised you we would be honest and would give you trust”, he finished, his voice growing unsure towards the end. 

He grew quiet after that, waiting for her response. “Do you wish to touch me now?”

Robb’s eyes grew big, he had not expected that. “We promised you truth. So, I would really rather kiss you.” Even after saying the words, Robb did not move, staying by the door as he promised.

She thought on what to say next, Robb had made himself vulnerable for her, she knew that. Instead she remained quiet, choosing to walk towards him with her hand out. Sansa wanted to give Robb something back, and it seemed fair, he would be eating stewed turnips tonight.  _ I am not done with that game yet.  _

Robb took her hand in one of his own, turning it so her palm faced up, stroking for the briefest of moments with his thumb, before leaning down to give it an open mouthed kiss. He promptly released her and left, before Sansa had a chance to speak a further word. 

A short while later found Sansa sitting to eat, the great hall largely empty in the morning hours. She had brought Rickon with her as she had for every meal since his return. Soon she would need to focus on his teachings with the maester. He would need to know use of swords, bows and lances but that would be for Robb and Jon. Sitting down, Sansa saw the gift giving was not yet done. At her place was another blue rose, next to it was a necklace of silver. The attached pendant matched the hair clips given to her, another red wolf. More, there was something small wrapped in one of the handkerchiefs she had given to Robb and Jon the day she returned. Opening it, Sansa saw a lemon cake had been prepared for her. 

“It is too much”, she whispered to herself, feeling the tears in her eyes.

“No, it isn’t.”

She looked up to see Jon and Robb had joined them, she did not know for how long. Jon approached, holding out his hand.

“Will you let me put it on?"

Sansa looked at him for a moment, attempting to recognize the expression he wore.  _ Pride, he wants to show me off.  _ Sansa handed him the necklace and let him place it around her neck. She felt a shiver at his touch.

Only then did Robb finally speak. “Manderly told us the other day you would be known as the red wolf or the winter rose of the north. I believe you will be called both. You look a daughter of Winterfell today, Sansa.” His words came out soft, intimate, as if there was no others present. 

They ate quickly, there was much to be done before the wedding. Sansa had shared the lemon cake with Rickon, wanting him to enjoy the treat as well. Robb and Jon left together, Jon touching her hair briefly as he passed. Sansa could feel Robb’s gaze on her but he made no move to approach.  For herself, Sansa prepared the great hall for that night’s feast and made arrangements with Ser Davos to help with Rickon that night. She had learned the man was one of the few others Rickon trusted so had asked if would stay on at Winterfell for awhile. Finally, she retired back to her rooms to prepare for the wedding.

Her hair brushed to a shine and wearing a maiden’s cloak, Sansa made her way to the godswood. It was not the usual custom but Sansa held a few of the roses given to her, a reminder of who she was. There would be no escort, she was strengthening her family, not leaving it.

Approaching the heart tree, she saw Jon and Robb waiting, faces beaming.  _ They look happy. I did that. _ She stopped, her brother on either side of her.  _ Husbands. I must say husbands.  _

Distantly, she heard Robb asking who comes before the gods and responding with her name. Suddenly, she was agreeing to take Robb as her husband. Jon began speaking afterwards, going through the vows with her again.As they knelt in front of the heart tree, all Sansa could think of was her old fear. Her first marriage made her a Lannister. This one had her married to her brothers. They loved her but they were Stark men, they did their duty.  _ I will never be married for love.  _ It was then that Jaime’s words came back to her.  _ Don’t let what happened to Cersei and I happen to you.  _

They stood then and she felt Jon take off her maiden cloak, they both replaced it with one she had made for this moment. It bore the sigil of both Robb and Jon, quartered with the grey direwolf on white and the reverse for Jon. Sansa felt the wind and heard the rustle of leaves from the heart tree. She looked upon her new husbands and could see the snowflakes melting in their hair.  _ It is the gods. They have blessed this union I know it. I know they have. _

The ceremony done, they made for the great hall together, Jon and Robb pausing to gape at her efforts.  Sansa had decorated the hall with the idea of a winter woods. Branches and pine cones had been woven together and hung down as wreaths. Other branches had been wrapped together to form small trees. Garlands of pine cones hung from the rafters. Sansa had also brought out banners of every northern house she could find, merman, a giant breaking his chains, crossed keys on white and purple, a battle-axe on silver, a bull moose on orange, a black bear on green, and so many more. She wanted all of the north present at that night’s feast. 

The food was a simple affair compared to Joffrey’s wedding, roasted boar with apples, leek soup, buttered carrots, oat cakes, lamprey pie, roast duck, stewed turnips, creamed pease, boiled beans, sweet biscuits, and several large cheese wheels.  _ The north will never know seventy seven courses. _ This wedding would have no jousting dwarves or  _ Rains of Castamere _ , and no husband growing drunk on wine. Sansa had told herself her torments would come to an end that day, one way or another, she had a knife in the godswood with the other items she had managed to spirit away. Her first wedding made her a sacrifice to Lannister ambitions. She was a sacrifice again at this wedding, the north offering her up to save their families and their people. The north loved her a little but not like her new husbands. Robb freed them from the tyranny of King’s Landing and Jon had come back from the dead, had killed wights. Sansa saw the way their people looked on them, they were becoming  legends, on par with Brandon the Builder. Sansa was just Sansa.

She ate little, food held no appeal for her. Instead, she leapt to her feet as soon as the music started, saying nothing to either of her new husbands. Sansa went to dance, to lose herself in the songs and stories for awhile. She moved from one partner to the next, dancing with Ser Davos and Ser Robett once as well. The music went on,  _ Iron Lances  _ and  _ The Winter Maid _ ,  _ Wolf in the Night, Black Pines,  _ and  _ Fair Maids of Summer. _ Then came  _ The Rat Cook _ and Sansa heard Manderly’s boisterous laugh from across the hall. She could feel her hair, a whiplash behind her, her cheeks had grown warm, her breath came fast. Then suddenly Jon stood in front of her and  _ My Lady Wife _ had started.  

“Dance with me? I promise not to step on your toes”, he asked, his grin both shy and mischievous at once.

Sansa reached out to him in answer and he took her in his arms, the song was a slower, romantic one. 

“Are you well Sansa? I wager you ate no more than five bites of food tonight.”

He had noticed. She felt the lingering anger leave her at his question. He and Robb both had been trying so very hard these past few days, she knew that. Ignoring his question, she said, “I forgive you Jon, I am not mad any more.” 

He stopped for a moment. “Sansa……” Jon paused for a moment, his grin changing to a flirtatious smile. “Would that mean I finally get my look tonight? It would only be fair, you still haven’t shown.”

She laughed, Sansa had not expected that. “Perhaps, if you are lucky, I will have a bath drawn tomorrow.”

He grew serious then, his expression nervous.  _ He gathers his courage. _ “I want to..that is, can I kiss you Sansa?” 

Sansa reached up to stroke his beard for a moment, hoping to ease the tension she could see in him. “Yes, when we are alone tonight, you can kiss me. Come, let’s find Robb and escape before we hear calls for a bedding. I have no desire to be stripped in a crowded hall.”

A short time later found the three of them in her solar rather than Robb’s. Sansa was not sure what would happen that night but she wanted the safety and security of her rooms. 

“Sansa, what do you wish to do next?”

She heard Robb’s question but was not sure of the answer. She wished to kiss them both, to lose her maidenhead that night, she wished to have her mother there to brush her hair as if she was a child again. She wished for the comfort of Lady. Most of all, Sansa wished that she was loved for herself. That Robb and Jon had married her for love, at least a little. 

“I...I do not know.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Details on the wedding ceremony are a little vague but I was much more interested in Sansa's thoughts than the particulars of their vows. Also, I said it was three more chapters and well, the next chapter coming up will be the third.


	11. The First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only half of what I planned to write. I'll be going out with friends the next couple of nights so am posting what I have. The next chapter will be pure fluff and smut. Also, a quick note on POVs. This is all from Sansa's perspective. The next couple chapters will pretty much be the same, with only a few minor glimpses into Jon and Robb. Finally, I am writing a good portion of this on an ipad. I tried to fix all errors but likely some slipped through.

“I...I do not know.”  It was a poor answer but Sansa could not find it in herself to give another. It was the simple truth.

“We are all tired Sansa. Let’s retire for the night and rest. Nothing need happen tonight if you do not wish it.” Robb’s words were meant to be a comfort but they only made her feel worse. 

“He’s right Sansa. I will see you both in the morning”, Jon echoed his brother’s words, turning to leave.

“No! Stay with me, stay here.” She spoke quickly, panicked. But, Sansa did not want them to leave, it was the rest she was unsure of. She paused for a moment, preparing her next words. “You said we would do as I wished tonight. Sleep with me, in my bed.” She could hear confidence in her words that time.  _ We will go to sleep and I will be twice wedded, never bedded.   _

They remained silent, Sansa decided that meant agreement. “You can wear your breeches. I will go change in my dressing room.” 

Only then did she realize, Sansa needed help taking of the dress. It closed up the back, the laces intertwined in a pattern. She looked around, Jon was taking off his boots. Robb just stared at her.  _ He does not understand, well neither do I.  _ “Robb, will you help? My gown, I can not remove it by myself. You will need to loosen the laces.”

He gaped at her for a moment, his eyes growing large. She could see him take a swallow before nodding swiftly and walking towards her. She turned around, moving her hair to the side. She looked over at Jon who stood only a few steps away, motionless, his gaze fixed on her. It was only then Sansa realized what she had done.  _ They wish to look upon me. They want to see.  _ She knew they wanted her, had known that for awhile. Jon had been teasing her with his demands for a show but he meant it too. It was the same with Robb, she had felt him the one time, and his touches, his touches spoke of desire. So, Sansa stayed still, stayed quiet, as she felt Robb’s hands slowly move down her back, felt the gentle stroke of his fingers through her thin chemise. 

Sansa stepped away as soon as she felt her gown had been loosened enough and almost ran to her dressing room. There, she removed her garments, save for her small clothes. She looked at the night rail she had planned for that night, sheer to be almost transparent, only the barest of sleeves, and lace all across the chest to show what little the garment would otherwise hide. Instead, she picked another one, plain white wool, thick, with long sleeves.  _ I will look a sack of potatoes. _ She put it on and left, knowing Jon and Robb would be waiting for her.

They kept quiet upon looking at her but Sansa knew, her new husbands were disappointed. Robb and Jon would keep their promise but they still hoped. They still wanted. Sansa pretended not to notice as she stepped into the bed, moving towards the middle to give them both room. She watched as Jon stoked the fire and Robb blew out the castles, the room growing dark. They joined her, one on each side. Jon gave her a chaste kiss on one cheek and a whispered good night. Robb did not touch at all, merely telling her to sleep well. Sansa lay for awhile, slowly relaxing, her last thought of the kiss she had promised Jon before sleep claimed her. 

Sansa was in the cold woods and saw a kitten alone, crying with the voice of a small child. She walked towards it but stopped at a frozen lake. Ghost lay there but he had Jon’s eyes and she saw blood. Sansa ran towards him but Robb stepped in front of her, blocking the path. He was holding a babe with black hair. He looked at her with a sad smile and repeated, “Just look to Grey Wind, Sansa. Look at Grey Wind.” 

She woke, both Robb and Jon asleep next to her, no sound other than their gentle breathing. The fire had died down, giving the room the dimmest of glows. Sansa knew, the babe had been Jon’s, he had given her a child. She looked out her window, it was the blackest part of night, the hour of the wolf.  _ We are wolves.  _

She felt in the darkness to find their shoulders and began pushing at them. “Wake up. Jon, Robb, wake up. I am ready. Wake up.” The confidence in her words was not feigned this time. 

“Ready for what? It is too early to eat.”  Robb's voice was rough from sleep. 

Jon spoke next, his voice almost a mumble. “What?  What's wrong?”

“I'm ready. Wake up.”  She gave them both another push and climbed out of the bed to prepare.  

“Ready for what?” Robb repeated again, clearly not understanding her intent. 

She ignored him, they would both realize in a minute. She needed to prepare. 

Sansa walked to the pitcher of water her maid left.  “Here, drink”, she said, handing them each a cup. 

She looked around the room.  _ Candles. I wish to see them.  _ She lit several, leaving them throughout the room. The resulting shadows danced and leapt through the room, she could pretend it was moonlight. Sansa left for her solar, bringing in the vases full of roses she had been given. Distantly, she could feel the weight of Jon and Robb, their eyes following her movements. She had been a little bird once, she felt one now, fluttering about the room. 

Finally, she cast her attention on her new husbands.  _ They understand me now.   _ They had climbed from the bed, standing together, watching. “I will be back”. 

Grabbing a candle, she went to her dressing room and looked at the night rail she had meant for that night. Sansa wished she had worn it from the beginning. Quickly changing, she left and walked towards a table and picked up her brush. She combed her hair until it shone, a red waterfall streaming down her back. 

Finally, she walked towards the two men waiting for her and took them in, she could see hunger and nervousness at war in their faces but they made no movement towards her. It was then Sansa realized, they were waiting for her, having promised nothing would happen unless she wished it.  _ Why can they not read my thoughts? I am the maiden, not them.  _ Her nipples had grown hard and a shiver ran through her.  _ I have grown hungry too.  _

“Jon, I promised you a kiss earlier. Would you still like one?” She stepped towards him until they were almost  touching, placing her hands on his abdomen and slowly moved one up  to his chest until it rested on his neck. Jon clenched his jaw for the briefest of moments before cupping her face and tilting his head to make contact with her own. The first touch of his lips against her own felt like the shock of a lightning bolt, heat ran through her. Jon bit lightly at her bottom lip and Sansa found herself opening in response, his tongue moved against hers before beginning a slow invasion of her mouth. One hand  slid down her neck, between her clavicle and settled on her breast, the other moved to the small of her back, bringing her tight against him. She could feel his hardness and heard a faint mew leave the back of her throat. Sansa never wanted the kiss to end but eventually he gave a final press of his lips and pulled back. “Sansa, gods”, he said, voice grown ragged.

She smiled at him briefly before turning to Robb. Sansa could see it, he desperately wanted to touch her but did not believe she would welcome him. He was wrong. “Robb, do you-”. 

He grabbed her quickly, pulling her against him before sliding his hands to rest on her hips. He said nothing, his eyes looking into to her own for a moment before he bent and lightly kissed her cheek, not quite reaching her mouth and then she felt his tongue slide slowly across her lips. Sansa opened her mouth, inviting him in. He accepted and she felt the wet slide of his tongue against her own as he tasted her. She wanted more, placing her hands on his shoulders. The kiss went on and on, their lips moving together, caressing. Finally, Robb pulled away, breathing heavily. 

They stood there together, the three of them, gathered close at the foot of her bed. She gave them both what she hoped was a flirtatious grin before saying, “I have had my turn, now it’s yours. Take a look, if you wish it.” 

They wished it, both of them moving quickly and begin kissing her softly on the neck, by her ears. It was almost too much, Sansa decided she liked being kissed there. Jon moved one of his hands down her night rail, lightly tugging on the bottom.  _ They will see me soon. I want it. I want them too. “ _ Wait, could you remove your tunics?” They had both gone to bed almost full dressed, noting her earlier behavior. Both stopped kissing her to remove their tunics, she found their hurry to do so almost amusing. After, Sansa placed a hand on each of their chests to look upon them. They were beautiful, her Jon and Robb. Jon’s hair was black, disappearing beneath his breeches. She could see the scars that remained, some from long ago and the newer ones. Robb had hair darker than on his head, the barest tint of auburn to it. Both were muscled as she know they would be, evidence of their daily activity in the training yard. 

Sana was not done yet, she wanted more. “Kiss me again.” She said it to both of them, not caring who acted first. 

Jon gave her a sly look and grabbed her waist, turning her around so she leaned against the bed. Then Robb was kissing her again, mouths open, tongues and lips blending together. Sansa could barely see Jon, he was getting on his knees in front of her but she felt his hand, under her night rail, slowly moving up her leg. He stopped to untie her small clothes and pull them off before taking her thigh in his hand to pull her leg over his shoulder. That surprised her. Sansa pulled back from Robb to whisper, “What is he doing?” Robb seemed to find that almost amusing from the look he gave her but answered, “You wanted a kiss..” He said nothing else, turning his attention back to her neck, lightly scraping his teeth down her neck then turning his attention to her breasts, licking her nipples through the sheer gown. “A kiss? Wha...oh. Oh, oh.” 

Sansa could barely take it, Jon had spread the folds between her legs and then she felt his tongue, a long lick, moving up to lightly suck. He repeated the motion again before settling on her center, gently sliding a finger into her, slowly moving it in and out. It was to much, she had never experienced this kind of pleasure before. Robb pulled at the bottom of her night rail, lifting it up and off her. He tossed the gown away from them before placing a hand on each breast, cupping them, lightly flicking her nipples with a thumb before putting his mouth back on her, sucking and pulling lightly with his tongue. She could feel Jon too, his tongue keeping up its rhythm, long licks and sucks. He slid in a second finger, moving faster and faster.  She felt herself growing tense, the muscles in her stomach and lower tightening. Then Robb whispered in her ear, so low she could barely hear it, “Relax Sansa, let it happen.” She began to moan from the pleasure of it all, pressure building and building. Then suddenly, she felt a release and waves of bliss poured over her. Sansa did not know exactly what happened but she wanted more. 

Jon gave her a final lick before kissing her mound lightly and stood up, gazing at her breasts before moving to look at her again. 

Robb put his hand to her cheek, his thumb stroking her lips for a moment. “Sansa, do you want to do this? We can stop if you want.”

“No, I want it. I want you both.” Sansa could not imagine stopping, not now. 

Robb and Jon looked at each other for a moment before Jon began to untie his breeches. His manhood jutted out towards her. Sansa began to reach out, she wanted to touch but then Robb stopped her, telling her to lay on the bed. She got up, laying down on the bed, not quite certain what to do next. Then, Jon was above her, looking down. He placed his hand in the curls between her legs, mummering, “A cunt kissed by fire.”

“Jon.”

He took his hand away and looked up at her. “What? You don’t like it when I say cunt?” He  squinted at her for a moment. “Or perhaps you do.” Sansa refused to answer him. Jon lay down above her, placing his weight on his arms and looked into her eyes. “I’ll try not to make it hurt Sansa.” She could only nod, words had escaped her. After a moment, he slid a hand down her side until he reached her leg, pulling it up over his hip and settled more between her legs. Slowly, she could feel him enter her, trying to be gentle. He paused, giving her a moment to adjust before sliding in further. It was not so bad, she had thought the pain would be unbearable but this was only a slight sting.  _ More. I want more.  _ “Jon, more.” Her words came out almost a breathy hum against his ear.

“Fuck, Sansa. Fuck”, he growled at her. 

Finally, Jon began to move, his pace slowly increasing. Sansa could hear herself moaning. The pain was gone, she felt only pleasure. She turned her head to see Robb, standing by the side of the bed, watching them.  _ Me. He watches me.  _ The knowledge only added to her pleasure. He began to slowly remove his own breeches, preparing to climb on the bed. Sansa turned her attention back to Jon, his expression one of intense concentration. Suddenly, he pulled away from her to sit back. He hooked an arm under one leg and with the other reached down to gently stroke at that spot in her center again. The earlier tension was back, growing stronger.  Then she felt Robb’s mouth on one of her nipples. It was more than she could bear, with a loud cry she felt herself release. Jon moved, faster and faster, he looked almost in pain. His jaw was clenched in concentration. Then, with a quick thrust, he groaned and held himself still. He sat there for a moment, panting before moving up to lightly kiss her and then laying down next to her. 

_ I want to do that again.  _

“Are you alright Sansa?

She turned her focus to Robb at that question and gave him a lazy smile, her eyes only half focused. “Yes, I’m all right, Robb”, she replied, not quite able to hide her laughter. She could feel Jon lying next to her, content. 

He reached out, gently stroking between her breasts with a finger, saying nothing. “Robb?” His name came out quieter than she meant it

“Hmmm…”. His hand stopped moving but his focus had not wavered. 

She realized he would not ask, holding to the promise he had given her. “It is our wedding night. I want to lay with you.”

“Are you certain?” He sounded almost afraid to believe her. 

“Yes.”

Robb drew his hand away at that, saying nothing, deliberating. Finally, he sat up, resting a bit on the headboard. He grabbed at her, pulling her onto him until she sat astride him, her legs spread over his hips “Ride me.”

She felt confused, unsure of what Robb wanted from her. “I don’t know how.”

Jon sat up and flashed her a grin she could only call wicked. “Ride him like a horse, Sansa. Go on, I want to watch.”

She felt Robb’s hands on her waist, pulling her up. He moved one between her legs and then suddenly he was at her entrance, encouraging her to sink down onto him. Sansa lowered herself, moving slightly in experimentation. Robb put his hands on her hips, guiding her movements. She followed his directions, lifting herself slowly, rocking against him. Sansa felt him moving a hand to one of her breasts, cupping it gently, his movements matching hers. His hand slid down between her legs, rubbing lightly against her. Then, suddenly, Jon was kissing her neck, lightly nipping behind her ear before whispering, “You are a vision, Sansa. I could watch you for the rest of my days.” It was too much, she felt that now familiar pressure building from their ministrations. She let it build, crying out louder and louder, before feeling the waves of pleasure rippled through her body. Robb began pounding into her, eager to seek his own release. His face and chest had gone red, his eyes were glazed, then his hands gripped her hips tightly. He let out a series of grunts, holding himself still before relaxing. After a moment, she heard Robb say, “Fuck, Sansa. You are going to kill us both”, his voice slightly ragged. 

Jon seemed to find that funny, replying, “It would be a sweeter death than the first time”, before laughing. 

Sansa did not know what to say so she remained quiet. She could feel Robb pulling her off him, laying her down on the bed between the two of them. She gave a deep sigh of contentment, enjoying the moment with them both.

“I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Neither have I.” She looked at Jon, surprised, and saw the smirk on his face.

“But I thought...you and the wildling girl?”

“That’s not what he meant Sansa.” 

“Oh.”  _ What did he mean? _ She refused to ask. 

“Come, let’s go back to sleep.” He kissed her gently before pulling the furs over her. She could see Jon leaving the bed for a moment to blow out the candles, the room enveloped in dark shadows. She felt him next to her once again as he reached out to touch her hair. “Good night sweet girl.” 

_ Twice wedded, finally bedded. _

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is not just my first attempt at writing fic but my first ever smut. I could use some positive validation. This wasn't entirely awful, I hope.


	12. Robb Finally Tells

Jon lay in bed, enjoying the late morning quiet broken only by the sound of his brother’s snores. Robb had always slept deeply when they were children, it seemed years of battles and war had done little to change that. Jon had experienced many sleepless nights when they both still lived in the nursery and shared a bed due to his brother’s nighttime sleep habits. He was tempted to reach over and kick Robb for it but did not want to risk waking the woman who lay asleep next to him.

Sansa slumbered on, her hair spread on the pillow beneath her, the muscles of her face had gone slack as she rested. She looked closer to the child Jon remembered from years ago, the carefully guarded expression Sansa usually wore had disappeared. Jon intended to take her again very soon. Worse, he planned to spend the rest of his days rutting between her legs if she let him. Robb too, he would want her as well. They would need to talk soon, Jon could not keep running away. Not now though, Robb was asleep. A part of him would have been pleased to leave her rooms last night to sleep, he wanted to pretend he was not the baseborn bastard the Lady Catelyn and others believed him to be. Then, she had bid them stay and asked for a kiss and he wanted that more.

Jon reached over to lightly trace the line of her jaw with his finger and watched as her eyes slowly flickered open and lips curved upward as she saw him next to her.

“Shhh, Robb is still asleep.”

“He’s snoring.” Her response was half a whisper and half a giggle.

“Wretched habit he forgot to leave behind in childhood. Now, we just need to stay quiet and decide on the best position.”

“What?” _Is she surprised?_

“I want you again. No need to wake up Robb for it.” _Damned. Damned through all the seven hells._ He reached down to put his hand between her leg, gently stroking her cunt, before whispering, “Do you want me to stop, Sansa?” Jon lowered his head, delivering open mouthed kisses to her neck.

“No..oooh”, she moaned.

“Quiet, remember? Turn on your side”, he whispered in her ear. Jon didn’t bother waiting, grabbing her waist and pulling her back to his chest. He rubbed his cock against her for a moment before pulling her leg over both of his and giving a quick kiss to her shoulder. He slid his hand along the inside of her thigh for a moment before placing his cock at her opening and slowly entering her.

“Fuck, Sansa, you’re wet.” Jon placed his hand back at her cunt and began to slowly thrust into her.

She started to cant her hips against him “Jon, faster”,  she said, a low sigh.

“Shhhhh……” He increased his pace, movements growing more intense.

“Fuck, Jon. Did you actually think I would sleep through this?” Jon was not sure if Robb sounded annoyed or amused.

He was close and began pounding into Sansa in earnest, grunting against her ear. Jon felt the contraction of her cunt on him and was a man lost. He squeezed her hip and with a final thrust he spent inside of her.

They lay together for a moment, breath slowing, before Jon slipped out and laid her back against the bed. He leaned down to give her a final kiss before saying “Robb was right, you are going to be the death of us both.”

“You are an ass, Snow,” Robb said. Jon looked over to see a smirk on his brother’s face.

“I know, you’re quite fond of telling me”, he replied with a laugh.

Jon turned his attention back to Sansa. She had the loveliest pink flush covering her neck and chest. He felt a bit of cocksure pride at seeing it. _Damned._ “Are you hungry, Sansa? I thought to get us a bit of food.”

He got out of the bed and began putting on his breeches. “I’ll have a bath drawn for you as well. You’ll need it.”

Sansa wrinkled her nose, looking a bit offended. “Do I smell?”

Robb laughed. “No, love. You’re going to be sore, the hot water will help.”

Jon looked at the two of them for a moment, a strong feeling of contentment coming over him, he loved the both of them very much. He gave Sansa a brief kiss, nodded at Robb, telling him “Enjoy, brother”, before walking through the door.

_Damned. All the seven hells._

 

****

 

“You are an ass Snow”, he repeated to the closed door before turning his attention to Sansa. She seemed comfortable, pleased even. “Are you alright, Sansa?”

She laughed for some reason before answering, “You asked me the same question last night. You snore. Loudly.”

“Sorry. I used to wake up at night sometimes from Jon kicking at me when we were little.”

“I don’t mind. Robb, are you upset? That you woke up when we were…” Sansa did not finish, looking embarrassed at asking.

At her question, Robb turned over to lay on his stomach, putting his upper weight on his hands and arms, giving himself a moment to consider how to answer her question. _Truth. I promised truth. Even if I am afraid she will not like it._  “Upset? No, although I wager Jon planned that a bit. I am jealous though, even though I know I should not be. He has an ease with you which I lack. We used to be the same but there is a tension between us now and I know that I put it there, I know it is my fault. But, I can’t help but feel jealous over it.”

“Oh, Robb.” She reached up to start rubbing his cheek, stroking the hair of his beard. “You can touch me, if you want, even with that promise you made.”

“You always try to pet the hurts away of every wounded animal you cross, don’t you?”  The promise he made her was not to just ask permission. Robb wanted her to know he was trying to give her control of their relationship, for years others had denied her that and he had almost done the same. Even so, he turned on his side and moved closer to her, putting his arm lightly across her waist.

“I want to ask you something. I asked Jon but I never asked you. Why did you run away? Why did you not speak to me for so long?”

“Would you be satisfied if I just told you I’m an idiot? Don’t answer, I can see by your face the answer is no. I felt deceived. When you told us, I was already over half in love with you, I would have done anything you wanted if you asked. But, you didn’t. Instead, you handed me everything I had been secretly dreaming of and I got angry over it. As I said, idiot. Complete and utter fool. If it helps, everyone in the castle blamed Jon and me for it. Don’t laugh. I’m completely serious. You should have seen the looks men in the training yard gave us. Our food was burnt, chamber pots went unemptied, training leathers went missing. It was awful.”

Robb finished talking and joined her in laughter. “Well, I guess  you can laugh a little, it is funny.  Now, I wish to ask you something. Why did you do it? Arrange everything the way you did, decide to marry us, even before returning home. It was as if you committed yourself to that fate before even learning what you may have committed yourself to exactly.”

Robb watched as the earlier mirth completely left Sansa’s face, replaced with a somber expression he could not quite identify. _She looks heartbroken. I should not have asked._

Sansa began to speak but her voice was low, he could feel the pain in her words. “When we were little, I thought I would marry like mother and father, my husband and I would love each other and I would give him children. Instead, I was given to Joffrey. Then, I was passed from one man to another, all for the same reason. I was the heir to Winterfell and the north, a lovely prize that came with a beautiful maiden no less. After awhile, I realized, no one would ever marry me for love. Do you remember how father would look at mother? How much he loved her hair? None of the men looked at me like that. Once I realized that would not be my fate, it was easier. My decision was about what needed to be done, not about what I wanted.”

Robb felt stunned, he had not expected that. “Gods be good, Sansa. You actually believe that, no one would ever love you? You are completely wrong.”

He let go of her hair that he had been playing with and moved over to slide between her legs. It was not meant as seduction, Robb wanted her to look at him while he spoke, see that he was telling her the truth.

“Jon and I, both of us, are desperately in love with you and have been almost since the beginning. Jon feels guilty over it, that’s probably why he left, to find a nice corner and have a good sulk over it.  I know the man better than he knows himself, Jon loves you. As do I. Please say you believe me.”

He could see the tears in her eyes, Robb began to worry she would start to cry. “Maybe a little. But, if you do, it’s because I made you both love me. After coming home, I decided to find ways to make you both happy, to make you love me a little.” Now, she was crying, Robb’s stomach twisted.

“You did not ‘make’ us do anything, Sansa. Jon and I are Starks, do you know how ridiculously stubborn we could be? You should, we just gave you a lovely display of it. You are smarter than both of us, funny, incredibly kind to everyone around you, why would we not love you? Fuck, Sansa, the whole castle loves you. The women are proud to have you for Lady Stark, the men gaze at you in adoration. You turned Manderly into a half-wit without trying. We’ll have an Umber at tomorrow’s meeting, I have no doubt you’ll do the same thing to him too. Now, please stop crying.” Robb thought about it for a moment and leaned down to kiss the tears from her cheeks.

“Do you believe me?”

She finally smiled at him, it was that smile he loved so much, that she only ever gave to him and Jon. “I believe you. Robb, will you make love to me?”

 _Fuck._ He had wanted too but had not dared to ask. He smiled back at her before replying, “Yes, but only if you don’t cry. I couldn’t bring myself to put my cock in a crying woman. No, don’t laugh either. That would be just as bad.”

Robb rubbed against her  for a moment, letting her feel his length before leaning down to kiss her. He kept the kiss slow and gentle. Robb felt he had permission to touch Sansa the way he had been aching to and wanted to enjoy every minute of it.

Their lips melted together, the kiss seemed to go on and on, he could feel one arm  wrapped behind his neck and her hand, sliding down his back, petting him. Robb opened his mouth to let his tongue glide across her lips, feeling them part in invitation which he gladly accepted. It went on and on, they would occasionally break away to kiss each other on the neck and cheek and chin before bringing their lips back together. The long night could have come and Robb would not know of it.

Finally, Robb broke away to look down at Sansa, her lips were red and swollen, her eyes had grown dark in arousal.   _I did that. I made her look that way._ “Tell me when you’re ready Sansa, tell me when you want it.”

He went to kiss her again but her words stopped him. “Now Robb, please.”

It was the please that did it, he felt undone. Robb reached down between them and began to enter her slowly. He wanted to take his time, commit every moment to memory, savor them until the end of his days. Fully sheathed, Robb held his weight with one arm, using the other hand to caress her cheek before leaning down to kiss her on the nose and chin before turning his attention to her mouth.

He could feel her legs around his hips, her arms around his shoulders, Robb was certain she was taking him to all the seven heavens. This was the way he had dreamed of being with her. He moved his hips slowly, gently, loving her the same way he had kissed her. Robb wanted to make it last as long as he possibly could, pulling out almost completely before entering her again, keeping to a leisurely pace.  After every movement, Robb kissed her all over again.

After awhile, he felt Sansa’s kicks against his ass and a hot, wet “...please..please..” in his ear. Robb knew what she wanted and he intended to give it to her. He took his hand from her cheek, placing it against her nub and began gently stroking, increasing the force of his thrusts. The only sounds in the room that of their bodies slapping against each other and the pants of their breath. Robb was close, he could feel it, and began slamming into Sansa. He could hear her cries and let go, giving a few shallow thrusts and spilling in her with a roar.

He sank against her for a moment in an effort to catch his breath, enjoying the pleasure that still surged through his body. After a moment, he reached up to grab Sansa, flipping them both over so she lay on his chest. “Do you still believe me?”

She looked up at him, grinning. “Yes, Robb, I still believe you.” She then gave him a couple soft kisses against his chest.

They lay in silence for a short while before Jon walked back in the room. “Bath is drawn and there is food in your solar. Bread, cheese, some fruit and ham.”

Robb saw the sly smile on his brother’s face, confirming his earlier suspicion. “You are an ass, Snow.”   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally planned to be almost entirely from Sansa's POV. But, ChaliceInk's comment in the previous chapter inspired me to do something different. So, I changed up the location of a few planned scenes so that Jon could go off in search of snacks for them. Glad I did it, I like this version much better than the original plan.


	13. Sansa versus Council, pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered calling this chapter "Sansa the Council Slayer" or "One Sansa to Rule Them All" but decided that would be completely ridiculous.

Sansa opened her eyes to see her chambers illuminated by the cool morning light. She was alone in her bed and had been for awhile, the pillows had gone cold. Sansa looked around to find two sets of eyes intently watching her, steely grey and Tully blue.  Both dressed in a mix of grey, white, and black with their sigils on display. Seeing them so attired forced a grin of satisfaction from her, they had been listening after all.

They would be meeting with their vassals that afternoon to talk tax revenues and war. Sansa could not entirely keep away her disappointment. They had spent the entirety of the previous day in her rooms, ignoring the responsibilities that lay beyond her door.  Sansa had felt truly loved, she had been in their arms and kissed, made to laugh, and been told stories. In the evening, Rickon joined them for their meal and spent time playing with the wolves. Shaggy continued to be a problem but the other two treated her little Rickon like a young pack member.

“You let me sleep. Why did you let me sleep?”

“We thought to let you rest, you had little sleep the past two nights. A bath is being drawn and food waits for you in your solar.”

It was Jon who answered, Robb merely looked at her. His stare made Sansa realize she was naked, he was waiting for her to pull back the furs for him. They both were. _Boys._

“Where is Mari? I need assistance getting dressed.”

“Why? We can help, we can give you a bath too.” _Can you braid and pin my hair as well, Robb?_

“Will you both wait in my solar? I wish for us to speak before gathering this afternoon.”

Neither of the men moved. Sansa sighed, she knew what they wanted. She pulled back her furs and stepped from the bed, walking towards her bath.

Sansa occupied the lady’s chambers which meant she had her own private bathing room, a luxury she had come to greatly enjoy. Since returning, Sansa had acquired rose oil for her bath, perfumed soap, hair softening rinse, and some creams and lotions. She intended to make use of all of them that day. Jon had spoken true, a hot bath awaited her. Sinking into the the water, Sansa felt the heat seep into her muscles, chasing away the soreness.

She closed her eyes and let her mind wander, the momentary solitude providing a chance to think on Robb’s words the previous day. He said they both loved her, as a man loves a woman. Sansa wanted to believe him, she mostly did. But, a small part of her was afraid too. They wanted her, she knew that, she knew how they looked at her. It was Robb that had spoken the words, not Jon. Worse, he said it made Jon feel guilty too. She had wanted Joffrey to love her once and he had given her father’s head. Sansa had decided to marry Willas and make him love her but she had been forced to marry Tyrion. She wanted to believe, she wanted to hope, but she was still afraid.

Sansa lay back under the water, soaking her hair, allowing herself to almost float along the surface. _I am loved. I know it. I know it._ She opened her eyes to see Jon standing above her.

“We thought you could use help”, said Robb, standing behind her. She had not even heard them enter.

“Oh, I am sure that was your only motivation for offering assistance.”

She proceeded to ignore them both, quickly using the soap to wash herself before placing the rinse in her hair and combing through the wet strands. She could feel the weight of their gaze, following her every movement. Sansa felt as if she was a living piece of art, put on display for them to consume. It had been the same yesterday, washing herself in their presence. Sansa knew their need to watch her was partially due to lust, they desired her. But, it was more than that. Robb and Jon were looking on her as if to seek emotional connection with her body. No matter the reason for their presence, sounds from her stomach let her know the bath had come to an end.

Sansa stood up and found herself quickly wrapped in cloth to dry before putting on her dressing gown and heading back to her room. She selected one of her simpler gowns, light blue with a high collar and long sleeves. The design made Sansa look younger than her actual age and had no direwolf embroidery, it would suit perfectly for that day’s tasks. A single braid pulled over her shoulder coordinated perfectly, a northern style but nothing else.

Dressed, Sansa went to sit at the table in her solar to eat, a simple meal of fruit and oat cakes. It was time to prepare, she needed information.

“Robb, yesterday you told me someone from House Umber would arrive today. Do you know who?”

“Mors and Hothor both most likely, they were both left as castellan by the Greatjon. They were both in want of wives not so long ago, I would imagine they still are.”

Sansa did not like to hear any of that, one would be difficult enough. Robb had told her that they would love her as others did but she was not so sure. Robb saw them with a man’s eyes but letters from the Mormonts and Alys Karstark told a different story. Both were prone to drink, almost brigands, and rumored to continue the practice of first night. Flattery and courtesy would prove poor weapons against these men. Sansa would not wish either of them as husbands for any woman. _Not if I can prevent it._ She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“I will greet them alone, there is no need for either of you to see them until we meet this afternoon.” She would greet them with simple words and empty smiles. _I will be a little chirping bird, singing all of the songs I have been taught._

“Good. I would happily leave that responsibility to you, Sansa, for the rest of my days.”

Sansa gave Jon a smirk at his words. She was fairly certain he would rather face wights unarmed than stand in another receiving line.

“Lady Dustin. What do I not know?”

They both began to laugh, looking rather pleased with themselves.

“I made sure there were no Dustin or Ryswell men when she arrived and have not spared her a thought since,” said Jon, still laughing.

“I completely forgot about her, but to answer your question, she hates us both. Most passionately.”

“It would seem me taking her brother Roger’s head did not exactly endear a love for House Stark.”

“After Stannis died, the woman committed herself to the Bolton cause even further, even as they lost what little support they had. After Roose and his bastard were both killed, Jon put down Roger Ryswell like he said but the rest died in the fighting. Rather than kill Barbrey Dustin, we took control of her lands and incomes. She receives an allowance for food, clothing, and other needs but that is all. We appointed a castellan for Barrowton. She has few fighting men left to her after the wars and is now misliked by much of the north which means no allies.”

“You made her a ward.”

Robb gave her a self-satisfied grin. “Essentially, yes, that is exactly what we did.”

“I receive regular reports from the castellan and use the incomes provided to help purchase food for the north and rebuild Winterfell. Eventually, something will have to be done with the Rills and Barrowton lands but that is a problem we have put off for another day. Do you approve?”

“Yes, Jon, I do. Will she stay here in Winterfell or do you plan to let her return home?” Sansa believed she understood their reasoning. It gave them a way to avoid killing a woman, brought them needed coin, and served as a demonstration of Stark power. In truth, it was something she would have done herself.

“She will be allowed to return to Barrowton provided we hear no further word of treachery or rebellion. Otherwise, the woman will become a permanent guest here at Winterfell.”

Sansa nodded her head to Jon in understanding. Their story helped to explain Lady Dustin’s behavior. She had kept to her rooms since arriving and looked daggers at Sansa more than once. “Will she be in attendance later today?”

Robb had already decided on this based upon the speed of his answer. “No, her opinions are neither wanted nor needed.”

“Good. When we meet this afternoon, you should both wear your crowns and bring your wolves with you.” Sansa decided to continue on before they had a chance to complain. “I also have a request. You both agreed I could meet with Theon Greyjoy. I wish to do so after the bannermen leave.”

Silence.

“I fully intend to go see him. I am telling you now as I had agreed to your terms, one of you would accompany me.

Robb and Jon looked at each other, a silent conversation seeming to pass between the two of them. Eventually, Jon answered, “I will go with you Sansa.”

“Thank you, Jon.”

They both looked rather miserable, the earlier expressions of pride had disappeared. Sansa recalled their earlier words, both would prefer to continue pretending the man did not exist. She still planned to see Theon, they would not change her mind. But, she could distract them.

“I will leave you both, there is much I need to do this morning.” She stood up and gave them each a kiss on the cheek before heading towards the door.  Pausing, she turned around as if suddenly remembering. “Oh, I do not intend to spend my nights alone in my marriage bed. I would prefer to have both of you with me but will leave the arrangements to you. Please let me know what you decide.” _There, that should distract them well enough._

Sansa had not exaggerated when she had told Jon and Robb that her morning would be a busy one. Rooms needed to be readied for both Umber men and arrangements for their household made. She also met with maester Olyvar to discuss Rickon’s education, a task she had been neglecting, and greeted Hothor and Mors Umber just as promised. That experience proved her suspicions correct, she found them both completely odious.

The day passed quickly and Sansa soon found herself in the meeting room, taking on the role of host. She was amused to see the chair left empty for her was at the end of the table. She may be a consort, but Sansa was still the queen. Her place should have been directly across from Jon, both of them seated next to Robb. She was pleased to see Ser Davos in attendance, Sansa was growing to quite like the man. He was plain-spoken and direct, qualities she appreciated. Robb and Jon were the last to arrive, entering together, Grey Wind and Ghost with them. They wore their crowns as she had advised and had on the cloaks she had made for them. With the furs, they managed to look part wolf themselves and Sansa felt a fierce pride over it. _Mine._ After they sat, Ghost and Grey Wind both came over to lay by her. She had to resist the urge to smile, Sansa could not have planned it better.

Sansa was only listening to the idle chatter in the room as she felt Mors Umber heavy stare.

“It is said you murdered the man who killed your father before turning into a bat and flying away. Is any part of that story true?”

The room went instantly silent. Sansa chose to ignore the lack of title in his words. “No, my lord, I am afraid that is incorrect.” She paused for a moment, before continuing, looking at the man. _Ah, there it is._ “I killed both of the men responsible for my father’s death. Joffrey was poisoned, I watched him turn purple and bleed from his eyes and mouth. And as you can see, I have no wings. I escaped the Red Keep by using hidden tunnels and climbing down a cliff to board a ship. But, he only gave the command to kill my father. The man who whispered in Joffrey’s ear received a dagger in the the throat. It took a few minutes but he bled to death. I traveled home via horseback afterwards.” It was close enough to the truth, or close enough to make no matter.

Sansa turned her head to see Jon staring at her,  he had enjoyed hearing her story. She did not mourn Joffrey and Littlefinger but she also did not take any joy in their deaths. They were gone and she hoped never to speak of them again. Sansa felt grateful that Robb turned the discussion to the demand for blacksmiths although it reminded her that she had yet to speak to either Jon or Robb about her ideas. She could not do so here in front of the other men and she was counting on Jon’s experiences with his wildlings besides.

It was Jon who turned the conversation to dragonglass.

“I can confirm its presence on Dragonstone, your Grace.” She heard Ser Davos explain to him.

“We just have no way to get to it.” was Jon’s only reply.

Sansa could help with that. “Dragonstone? Do we need access to Dragonstone?”

“The island is full of dragonglass which we need. The more the better. It’s in Tyrell hands now, the last we heard.”

“Loras Tyrell led the siege actually and still has command I believe. Luckily for us, he is a Tyrell and not a Lannister. Mace is the head of their house but it’s his mother the Lady Olenna and son Willas that rule. Even better, I am friends with his sister Margaery. If we need access to Dragonstone, let me get it for you. “

“What do you propose, Sansa?” Robb asked. Sansa looked at him, he wore the lord’s face she remembered seeing on their father when she was a child.

“Ser Davos, you are familiar with the island and water around it, correct?”

“I am, your Grace”, he answered.

She nodded before turning her attention back to Robb. “I would suggest sending Ser Davos and a small crew to Dragonstone. A single ship, something a smuggler would use. No House sigils, especially a northern one. Let me write to Margaery and Willas, Loras will listen to both of them I have no doubt. All of the Tyrell siblings follow Willas’ lead and Loras is very close to his sister. If they instruct him to help, Ser Loras will do so, I am certain of it. And as I said, Margaery and I grew to be close friends.” _Also, I know she murdered her current husband’s brother and the Tyrells need their Lannister alliance to maintain access to the throne._

“Send Davos on a ship via White Harbor, flying a simple grey flag. It could work, Robb.”

_Rather than grey, may I suggest a purple hairnet upon a field of gold and green?_

Robb nodded. “Write your letters, Sansa. Lord Manderly, provide Ser Davos with whatever he needs.”

Sansa could not quite contain the surge of pride she felt. She could not fight in battles but she could provide the weapons. She turned her attention back to Jon. “Your highness, do you need more? I have never been but I understand there is some dragonglass to be found at Harrenhal as well, created in the day of Aegon’s Conquest.”

“I can confirm the truth of that, your Grace. I was at Harrenhal with Bolton for awhile”, stated Robett Glover.

Sansa smiled at him. “Thank you Lord Robett. Perhaps, your Highness, we could look to Harrenhal as well.” _I will send the raven to Riverrun today._

“How would we do that, Sansa? The riverlands are in Lannister hands.” Jon’s question was a simple one. He wore his usual serious expression but she could hear the curiosity in his voice.

“The Lannister hold is weakening, especially in the area around Harrenhal. I traveled through the Riverlands on the way home and several Houses there are on the verge of revolt. I met with many of them. If we need weapons, it is quite likely we can gain dragonglass in Harrenhal.” _I met with them and also have exchanged letters with Blackwood, Mallister, Myranda Royce, Ellaria in Dorne and some others._

Sansa remained quiet for awhile after that. But, the raven would need to be sent today, this meeting had shown the need. It was time for Jaime to come. _Brienne will be happy. Robb and Jon will not._

“..wood for fires.”

That caught Sansa’s attention. This was something she had not wanted to think on but if it would help…

“Ser Davos, you fought at the Blackwater, did you not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will start immediately after this one with an answer to Sansa's question. Did anyone count the number of times Sansa lied this chapter?


	14. Sansa vs Council, pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is incredibly long, way longer that I meant it to be. Oh well.

They would need dozens of trebuchets, mounted on sledges and turntables, fire arrows, wood for pyres, and so much more. The timber harvesting would need to increase quickly, Jon had hopes the free folk would take up the cause, it would help improve relations with others in the north. The Umbers in particular loathed them, free folk had stolen away a kinswoman of theirs not so long ago. He looked over to Sansa, her focus split between Glover and Hothor Umber as the timber discussion went on.  _ I could ask Sansa, she would know what to do.  _ Jon could not be certain why but the two men had said something to capture her interest, he could see it in the slight widening in her eyes and her usual public smile had fallen just a bit. It was subtle, he doubted others in the room, other than Robb, would notice the change in her features. 

“Ser Davos, you fought at the Blackwater, did you not?”

“I did your Grace, I commanded a war galley, Black Betha.”

“I spent that day in the godswood of the Red Keep, praying for the sons, fathers, and husbands who would be fighting. But, then the night sky came and I knew my prayers would be in vain. My rooms were lit with green fire, I could her the sounds in the bay and I saw the injured and burned. And you saw it all in the bay itself.”

“I did, I still do most every night. That stuff, once it gets in there is nothing to do but wait, I saw steel burn as if it was wood or fabric.”

“It killed Lannister men just as easily as those fighting for Stannis too. Tell me Ser Davos, do you think it was worth it?”

“My apologies your Grace for the crude language but there is an old seaman’s saying. ‘Piss on wildfire, and your cock burns off.’ But, to answer your question, yes, I believe it would be and, if we have it, I would use it.”

“A part of me hoped you would give a different answer but I agree with you.”

All others in the room had remained quiet during the exchange, Jon had watched each of them, could see the precise moment one of the men would realize what Sansa was thinking of. They had all heard of wildfire before but it was a rarity, made only by alchemists in King’s Landing. If Sansa could bring them wildfire, it could make a true difference. 

A part of Jon wanted to laugh. He had not failed to notice where she sat, at the other end of table, a place for lower rank. She had been dismissed by their vassals and yet while they talked of steel weapons and bonfires, Sansa was the one that brought hope. 

Robb had apparently come to the same conclusion. “Can we get it?”

“Yes, I think so. How much exactly, I could not say. Cersei Lannister used wildfire to burn the Tower of the Hand after her father died and with the growing power of the Faith in King’s Landing, the alchemists were expelled from the city. Sadly for them, they were taken in by someone who is less than fond of their practices. 

If you command it, I will do my best to bring the pyromancers and all they have north to us. But, Ser Davos spoke true. Wildfire is dangerous, to talk of it should frighten us all. The stuff is fickle and burns easily. A single mistake and all of us within the walls of Winterfell would perish. Once the fire starts, it burns until it is done and wildfire has no care for whether it burns the living or the dead.”

She had the attention of everyone in the room and Jon could read their thoughts. He had wished for a dragon or three more than once in the wars to come but they were gone from the world. Yet, Sansa offered them a weapon that could be almost as powerful, it was dangerous but the temptation was a rich one. He wanted it but it would not be his decision alone. He could not ask the Umber men their thoughts, they were Umbers, he already knew how they would stand. Manderly would be in White Harbor, far from the risks and Sansa would refuse to give an opinion in front of others. That left Reed.

“Lord Reed, you heard the risks. If we did use wildfire, it would pass through the neck, right by Greywater Watch. What say you?”

Reed was a small man, as crannongen were known to be but there was a strength to him Jon liked. He could see why Lord Eddard had counted Reed a friend. “I sent my two children to your brother Brandon Stark and believe they are with him now, wherever the three of them have gone. Their fates are tied to yours. If her Grace can bring us this wildfire, then we should use it.”

Jon looked to Robb for confirmation although there was little need for it, he already knew what his brother thought, his subtle nod merely confirmed it. In the time since returning to Robb, Jon had found himself growing nearly as powerful as his brother. His words had proven true, Jon spoke with the full weight and authority of the king. Their bannermen deferred to him in the same way they did Robb. Jon had a queer sense of discomfort over it, his position here in Winterfell was one he had secretly longed for. He had loved his brother deeply even while considering the man his greatest rival yet Robb handed him everything Jon secretly yearned for, Winterfell, lordship, and a wife for them both. 

“If you can do it, Sansa, make it happen.” He saw her nod but her skin had paled slightly, she was not entirely satisfied with their decision. Jon supposed that should frighten him but it did not.

“Don’t suppose you could bring our nephew through the neck too, with all your letter writing?” It was Whoresbane who spoke which came as no great surprise, he was the Umber who had chosen to ally with the Boltons in an attempt to save the Greatjon.

Jon could feel the anger coming from Robb over the slight, it was a reflection of his own. He gave his brother a small kick in the leg, urging him to remain silent, knowing Sansa would prefer to fight her own battles. 

She took on a look of anxious worry, Jon was certain it was an affectation, “Well, my Lord Hothor, I do have some news…I...” She paused to look towards him and Robb. “I must beg forgiveness from you both. I know you had left instructions with maester Olvyar to be informed at once when the raven came. I was meeting with him earlier today and meant to give you the letter and now I have completely ruined it.” She turned her focus back on both the Umber men. “His Grace and Royal Highness meant to inform you once we had confirmation that the hostage exchange was a success. The GreatJon has been released and heads north now as part of an exchange. He was released with Ser Marq Piper, in exchange for Genna and Daven Lannister, an aunt and cousin. I humbly apologize for the manner which you have been informed.”

Crowfood and Whoresbane stared at Sansa like a pair of matching lackwits. Reed and Davos gave Sansa a more considering look, Jon was fairly certain they were realizing there was quite a bit more to Sansa than her appearance may suggest. Jon only wondered how much of her words were a lie, there was no hostage negotiation or instructions to the maester. He believed her words about the dragonfire, her fear was real.  _ But the rest of what she had spoken in this meeting…. _

Sansa said little else for the remainder of the council and it soon grew to a close. Him and Robb owed her a debt, her words had further strengthened loyalty to House Stark. 

Jon heard Robb speak. “We’re done here, I thank you all for your time. Sansa, you stay, we have questions for you.” 

His brother kept quiet until the room had cleared. “How much of what you said today was a lie?”

Sansa at least managed to look a tad sheepish. “I did not lie exactly. I...told the truth in a creative manner.”

Jon found himself snickering over that. She could be careful in her choice of words at times. 

“Could you perhaps tell us the truth in a less creative manner?”  _ Good question Robb. _

“I did not mean to deceive either of you, please believe me. You both know the truth of Joffrey and Littlefinger, how they died, I held nothing back. The dragonglass, I did not know of the need for it until just today. I spoke the truth about Dragonstone, the Tyrells will grant access to us as long as we make it clear the north is no threat. Harrenhal, that was mostly the truth. The riverlands are in revolt against the crown, I met with Blackwood and other Houses while returning home. They will swear allegiance to you again if you ask for it, I have no doubt. They lost kin at that wedding as much as the north did. But, we will not need to send anyone to Harrenhal, dragonglass can be brought to us. Allow me to send a raven to Riverrun, I know of men who will do so. The wildfire, I was not trying to keep that from you, rather I did not want to think on it so I pretended it did not exist. The stuff frightens me, the sky was lit with green fire for hours on end, the screams of men could be heard all over the city. “

Jon had a suspicion on who held these pyromancers, he wanted it confirmed. From her story, they were in the hands of someone she trusted and he was certain neither he or Robb would like her answer. “Sansa, these pyromancers, you said they were being held by someone but you did not give a name. Who is it?”

“Jaime Lannister. He abhors the alchemists guild but insisted I tell you both about them. He can bring them to us, if we wish it.” 

“Jaime fucking Lannister. I suppose he helped negotiate this hostage exchange too?” Jon could hear the anger in his brother’s voice. Robb hated the kingslayer even more than Jon did, he had fought him in the Whispering Woods and watched the man cut down his own guard. 

“Yes, the exchange was his doing, not mine. His cousin was meant to marry a Frey at Riverrun, instead Lannister and Frey had their own Red Wedding carried out with a group known as the Brotherhood Without Banners. There is no love between them and Jaime but he could get a message to them. They have an allegiance to me and would swear themselves to both of you, I know they would. It is this band that I mean to send to Harrenhal. I also ask to bring Jaime north as you both promised me. He is at Riverrun waiting for my word. You promised I could, you promised you would listen to him.

There is one more thing. Our uncle, Edmure Tully. He was a prisoner as well but has been released. He was caught unaware at the wedding and did not know what happened until the next day. I know him very little but I can tell you he is extremely devoted to his Frey wife and she carries his child. “

“Consider this Robb, if the kingslayer comes north, you could take his other hand. He’d be Jaime Lannister, the knight who could no longer wipe his own ass.” 

That finally got a laugh from Robb. “Send your raven to Riverrun, Sansa. He can come, we’ll keep our word.”

“Do I have your leave to go? There is still much to be done before the evening meal and I will probably be late attending. Could I ask you both to play at host until I arrive?”

“Go, Sansa. We will see you tonight”, said Robb.

She gave them both a brief smile and left. 

“Jon?”

“What?”

“Do you believe her?”

“Yes, mostly I do.”

“You think she has more plans, don’t you?”

“I believe she is telling us the truth but, yes, she has more plans. Before you ask, no, I could not say what they are. Maybe she’ll conjure up some armies.”

“In truth, I wouldn’t be surprised if she did. She lies to herself, you know.”

That caught Jon’s attention, he turned towards Robb to better focus on his brother’s words. “How do you mean?”

Robb gave him a surprised look, evidently thinking he would have noticed as well. “She just did it, you heard her. The wildfire, she did not want to think on it so she just pretended it didn’t exist. She did the same thing first returning. Sansa did not want to tell us about her dreams so she pretended they didn’t exist for awhile. And those dreams, she still thinks its her wolf. I don’t claim to know where those dreams came from, the old golds perhaps, but Lady is dead. But, she tells herself that because that is the only way she can understand it. Like I said, Sansa lies to herself. I don’t think she even realizes she does it.”

Jon supposed he should feel shock over Robb’ words but found he did not. “Seven Hells, Robb, she does. The dreams, as I told you, I believe her but the wolf is dead. What she told us, about her experiences in King’s Landing and the Vale, the actual events, what truly happened, is likely worse. You do realize that, yes?”

“I had the same thought. You don’t plan to tell her, do you?”

Jon gave his brother a dismissive look.  _ Does the man think me an idiot?  _  “Not a word. I want to go meet with Glover before the training yard. We may have a solution for the free folk problem.” It had occurred to Jon while they were discussing the wildfire. Glover was well respected in the north and could influence Umber for him, even though they were a masterly house. Both Glover men knew Jon was the one that pushed Stannis to take Deepwood Motte and it was Stark justice that made it possible for his children to be returned. 

“We need to talk about-”

“ Aye, I know we do, not just about Sansa, but the free folk, the Watch….other things. Tomorrow Robb, tomorrow. Northmen keep to their own hearths, they will leave at first light.”

Robb snorted. “‘Keep to their own hearths.’ You would have made a poor southron prince, you know that? I will see you shortly, we have just enough time before we eat, the great hall will be full tonight.”

His brother had been right, the hall was indeed full that night. Jon felt pleased with himself, his discussion with Glover had been a success. He would need to bring some of the free folk to Winterfell, if he could time it so that the Greatjon would be there as well, so much the  better.  Sansa was not present, just as she had said so it was Robb that had brought their younger brother with. Rickon was often in the company of Sansa or Robb, they would need to do something about that soon. The boy would need companions his own age and would need to be given a lord’s upbringing, just as their father had done with him and Robb.

Bread, pumpkin soup, and a salad of sweet greens had already been served but Sansa had not yet appeared. Drinking games would start soon with the Umber men in attendance. They would need watching, he had heard stories of serving women’s complaints before.  _ Brienne could help with that, Sansa will be with us tonight. I could ask her. _

As if his thoughts summoned her, she chose that moment to make her appearance. “Fuck. Robb, look.”

Sansa’s dress was all white with red leaves along her shoulders and down to her waist. Her only jewelry was the red wolf hair clips and necklace he and Robb had given her. Sansa’s hair was left unbound, hanging loose down her back and over her shoulders.  Taking it in, Jon realized what she had done, Sansa had turned herself into a weirwood tree, taking her Tully features and using them to connect herself to the old gods. She had the eyes of every man in the hall on her, the din of conversation had lowered, everyone’s attention shifting to Sansa as she moved through the room, coming closer to him and Robb.  _ She planned this.  _ Her dress that morning had made Sansa appear younger, but this one, there was no mistaking it, she was very much a woman grown. He had learned something from her, Sansa had a purpose in those choices even if he did not understand it. 

She came up and gave him an almost chaste kiss on the cheek before repeating the same action with Robb. It was Rickon that was bestowed with her affections, tightly embraced with a motherly kiss. Sansa had seemed determined to drown the boy in love since he had come back, Jon guessed it was an effort to fill the void left by his dead parents. If that was so, Jon knew her efforts would be at least partially in vain, Rickon was no longer the little boy they once knew. 

Soon enough, the meal was over and the music started, benches and tables moved to the side. As she had every other night, Sansa rose to join in the dancing, moving from one partner to the next. Caught up watching her, Jon failed to notice Lord Reed approaching.

“Forgive me your Grace, for interrupting but I have a message from my son to share with you.”

That caught Jon’s attention, he had thought the Reed children were lost somewhere with Bran. Robb must have wondered about the man’s words as well, asking “A message, my lord? Is your son returned home?”

“No, my children are gone with your brother, I know not where. Before their journey to Winterfell, my son Jojen asked me to give a message to you both. At the time, I did not understand what he meant but I believe I do now. I was asked to wait until the wolves were joined, to tell you both that passing the night door will lead you to the dead man. I’m sorry, I could not tell you what that means.”

Jon was curious. “Lord Reed, does your son dream?” 

That seemed to surprise the man, he evidently was not sure whether he would be believed or not. “He calls them green dreams, your Highness.”

“Green dreams. Magic is returning to the north, Lord Reed. The next time you see your son, tell him thank you on behalf of House Stark”, said Jon. This Jojen Reed may have just answered a question that he had been puzzling over for awhile. 

“My father thought highly of you, Lord Reed. You fought with him during Robert’s Rebellion?” 

“I did your Grace, I was with him for almost the entirety of the war.”

“He rarely spoke of that time in his life but once told us that you saved his life at the Tower of Joy.”

“Mere luck on my part. I wish that more could have been done, when we arrived, your father had only enough time to say a final good-bye to his sister, your aunt Lyanna.”  Reed’s words made Jon uncomfortable, they were directed towards Robb yet the man kept his gaze on him the entire time. 

“Thank you Lord Reed, for  your information.” Jon meant it as a dismissal, he did not want to know more about his father’s dead sister.  Robert’s Rebellion had been fought over her, leading Ned Stark to father a bastard on some anonymous woman.  He was glad to see the man understand the meaning behind his words, giving a slight bow before leaving them. 

“Tomorrow, Jon, I intend to hold you to it.” 

Jon did not doubt that. “I am a man of my word.”

Robb ignored him, nodding towards the dancing. “She’s dancing with Whoresbane. I suspect she loathes the man. If you wish, I will stay here with the guests and put Rickon to bed. Go rescue Sansa from Umber, she’ll want to retire for the night, I’m quite certain.” He paused for a moment, turning to look directly at Jon. “Enjoy, brother.”

Jon did not know whether to feel angry or embarrassed, Robb’s choice of words were deliberate. After a moment of consideration, he responded, “You can find us in your solar later tonight.” 

Walking away, he saved Sansa from Whoresbane and led her out of the great hall.

They were walking past the ruined sept when she asked, “Where are we going?”

“Robb’s solar. He’ll join us later.” Jon had to resist the urge to carry her into the room.

Hurrying her in, he quickly shed his cloak and surcoat before turning to Sansa and asking, “Earlier today, why did you wear that dress?”

“The light blue one? I wished to understand how the men in that room viewed me and now I do. Davos and Reed respect me and Manderly sees me as one of his granddaughters. Robett Glover, I believe his opinion of me improved from the beginning of the council to the end. I’m growing to quite like the man. As for the Umbers, they see me as they do other women, a source of pleasure under the furs.”

Jon understood that. In the beginning, he had dismissed her words on clothing choices but had since learned how wrong he was. “You use clothing as one of your weapons. The council, did you intend to reveal as much as you did?”

Sansa looked at him for a moment before quietly sighing. “No, I had wished to tell you, you and Robb, privately. I know it appears that I am not forthcoming with you both at times. I can hoard knowledge and my instinct does lead me to lying. Honesty has done me no favors these past years. I can be careful with my choice of words at times but I tell each of you the truth. My intent is to support you both, I am sorry if you feel I deceived you.”

This was not what Jon wanted, he had failed to explain himself. “No, Sansa. That’s not what I meant, I did not mean to accuse you. I was trying to…” He fell silent, waving his arms around in an effort to make himself understood.  _ I look a fool. _

“You were trying to learn.”

“Yes.”

That did it, her face broke into a grin, she was pleased. Jon should not have been surprised, she almost preened under compliments that did not involve her beauty. He looked at Sansa in her dress, the neckline revealing the barest hint of her teats, her hair shining like copper from the firelight. Jon was done talking

He walked up to her and lightly stroked her cheek before bending down to kiss her.  He meant to keep the kiss light but Sansa opened her mouth to him and it quickly turned passionate. He could feel her hands in his hair, lightly tugging at his curls. He moved his own down to her hips, bringing her closer to him.  

After a moment, Sansa pulled back, her skin was flushed and lips swollen. “Jon, help me with my dress”, she whispered.

He was more than happy to oblige, turning her around to pull the ties apart and shoving it down to the floor. Sansa turned to face him, clad in only her chemise which she quickly pulled off and laid next to her dress. He imitated her actions, removing his tunic and casting it aside. He began untying the laces on his breeches and readied to take them off when he felt Sansa’s hands close over his own. 

“Wait. Can I touch? I wanted too the other night but did not know how to ask.”  

Jon nodded at her words, pulling his breeches and boots off until he wore only his smallclothes. “You want to touch my cock?” At her nod, he tugged off his remaining garment and placed her hand on his stomach, letting her explore. 

Her fingers slid over the muscles on his abdomen and hips before sliding lower to the base of his shaft, lightly encircling it and sliding along to the tip. 

“It’s so soft”, she murmured, almost to herself. Jon found himself grimacing at her poor choice of words but said nothing, letting her continue her explorations for a moment. 

He placed his hand over her own, guiding her movements. “Here, like this.” Applying pressure, Jon encouraged her to gently stroke up and down his shaft the way he liked. After a while, he removed her hand, moving it to his chest.

She tilted her face upwards to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

He placed his hands in her hair, lightly petting. “Nothing. I wanted to be able to do other things tonight is all.” He bent down to kiss her again, lightly licking across her lips before invading her mouth. They meshed together, all lips and tongue, before he broke off to kiss down her neck and throat. He moved his hands to her teats, lightly circling each of her nipples before cupping them. 

“Sansa”, he whispered into her ear. 

“Mmmmm…” the sound coming out almost a whine. 

“The bedroom...I want you on the bed.”

He kissed her once more, placing his hands on her waist, guiding her to Robb’s bed. 

“I want to love you Sansa, will you let me?”  Jon had almost used the word fuck but had stopped himself, not sure she would like it.   

She gave him a shy smile and gently nodded her head before going to lay on the bed. He climbed up to sit next to her, idly stroking the tip of his fingers from her teats, down her belly to the soft curls on her mound. He had been delighted to find the hair on her cunt was also red. 

“You’re so beautiful. I still can’t believe you let me touch you.”

“Jon.” His name came out breathy and soft. She lifted her arms out to him. 

He moved between her legs and bent down to kiss and lick at her clavicle. “I love the blush you get when I kiss you, the red spreading down your neck and chest to your lovely teats.” He went to kiss each of her nipples. 

Jon could feel her fingers in his hair, lightly pulling on his curls. “I love the soft skin on your belly. I could spend every night resting my head on it like a pillow.” He kissed her stomach, just above her mound.

“I love your cunt, warm and pink. Can I kiss you?” He looked up at her then.

Sansa let out a moan that he took to be his name. “Is that a yes?” He didn’t bother waiting for an answer, reaching down to move his fingers between her folds. His tongue followed, gently grazing and then circling her nub. Jon slid one of his fingers into her, slowly thrusting into her.

Her fingers were still in his hair, pulling harder, almost painfully so. Jon didn’t mind. He kept his tongue on her nub, applying slightly more pressure, stopping every once in awhile to lick up her juices. He could hear moans and pants coming from her. She began to squirm under him so Jon placed a hand on her hip in an attempt to keep her still but her bucking grew stronger. She began to chant his name over and over, as if in prayer. His cock grew harder, almost painfully so, at hearing his name on her lips. Finally, he could feel the inside of her cunt clenching against his fingers and he released the hold he had on her hip.  With a final lick and kiss, he moved back up to settle himself between her legs.

Sansa was breathing heavily and looking into his eyes, giving him a dazed smile. Her hands moved to his back, encircling him. He reached down to guide his cock into her, slowly moving inside of her.  She shifted her legs slightly, spreading them and raising her knees closer to his hips. Jon let out a groan of pleasure as he completely filled her. 

He put most of his weight on his arms before bending down to kiss her. Their eyes met briefly, each giving the other a small smile as Jon began to slowly thrust inside of her. He kept his rhythm at a leisurely pace for awhile, enjoying the pleasure of Sansa’s hands lightly feathering his back and down towards his hips. He gave her another kiss, their lips and tongues softly brushing against each other. Jon began to feel the urgency of his release building, he began thrusting harder and faster into her, the increasing pace finding him grunting louder and louder into her ear. Eventually, he could feel her grow still under him as she screamed out his name. Jon lost himself them, giving a few quick thrusts and groaning her name as he released his seed inside her. 

They lay in silence for a few moments, the only sounds their heavy breathing. Jon lifted his head to look down at Sansa, using one hand to pull some of her hair away from her face. “I fucking love you,” he whispered before lightly kissing a trail down her jawbone. He moved to her side then but quickly reached out to pull her next to him. They lay together quietly, content in each other’s arms.

“Seven hells brother, this is twice now.”

Jon looked over to see Robb by the door, their discarded clothes in his arms. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will pretty much just be a conversation between Jon and Robb where they talk about everything but their favorite color.
> 
> Also, I ended up turning comment moderation back on which I didn't want to do. But, with some of the feedback I'm getting feel it's needed. Sorry.


	15. In the Godswood

They had both woken before Sansa, leaving her asleep under the furs. His brother had quickly ran from the room, not bothering to finish tying up the laces of his breeches, in an effort to avoid conversation. He had bathed and put on simple leathers over a fresh tunic before heading to the great hall in search of food. Sansa would spend the morning handling their departing guests and seeing to Rickon, likely trying to tame the boy. The three of them would need to talk about their younger brother soon, he was not at all certain what they should do.

After breaking his fast, he went off towards the godswood, there was no reason to look elsewhere. Robb felt a tension in his stomach, he was nervous. Jon had been goading him, he was not mistaken about that, even if he did not fully understand why. As expected, his brother sat under the heart tree, cleaning his sword. Robb was starting to hate finding his brother here, the image of his father’s ghost had been troubling him of late.

“You can come closer, Robb. I won’t be running away.”

He went to sit on a weirwood root, sighing quietly to himself. Robb did not miss the annoyance in his brother’s voice. “I was trying to help.”

“Aye, I know you were. I’m no green boy, Robb. I know what to do.”

He felt himself growing defensive, Jon had not been there when Sansa had made her confession, seen her hurt. “Prince Jon of Dorne, keeping paramours in his Water Garden.”  Deliberate antagonism seemed the better approach.

Jon gave him an aggravated look before hissing, “King Robb Stark, Defender of the Teats, Protector of the Cunts. You fucking ass.” His last words came out almost a yell.

Robb could not resist laughing over it. “And a dutiful king I am.”

“Prick.” The anger was gone from him though, Jon’s usual sullen expression had been replaced with a look Robb could almost call jovial. It had worked, Jon would listen now.

“I was not doubting you, Jon. It wasn’t that, but if we can make it better with Sansa, then that’s what we need to do.” He wouldn’t say the rest out loud, his brother probably already suspected. Robb had practically begged him to take on the position of King’s Hand, he would tie him further if he could.

“Robb.”

He chanced a look at his brother and saw pity. He would have preferred the anger back.  “I wanted to die, Jon.”

“I once wished I still was. You think I saved you but you’re wrong. Now you have Sansa back, and Rickon too. You think I want to go away and die again? After everything?” Jon looked pained, time had done nothing to lessen the cruelty of this topic.

“Want to? No, but  you’re still Ned Stark’s son. I intend to make it as hard for you as I possibly can.” Robb would not say the words but he was frightened. Jon had given him family back, given him hope again. Robb intended to do everything he could to bind his brother to not just him, but to all of them. _You won’t die Jon, I won’t let you._

“You gave your word, I intend to hold you to it”, said Jon, grimacing. This was still a topic Jon did not care for.

“She will find out, you know that. But, I meant it, I’ll keep my word.” Jon would regret his choice, Robb had no doubt of that. Worse, he would likely be the one to receive the focus of Sansa’s anger.

“She’s happy, Robb. I want her to stay so as long as we can. I think Bran is north of the wall.” _Craven._ He knew a change of subject when he heard it.

“Should I be surprised? Who would look for a crippled boy north of the wall? Although, why he would choose to travel there, I could not say." Robb had once hoped to hear Bran was hiding with the mountain clans or someplace equally remote, it would seem he wasn’t completely wrong.

“I think I know what to do with the free folk too. They think me a god, I’ll show them a family of gods. It was Sansa that gave me the idea.”

“You mean to show us as connected to the old gods?” That could work, they needed to find ways to bring Jon’s wildlings into the rest of the north. Robb would have already been tempted to send them back through the wall if they would not need to be fought later.

“Yes, I do. Starks of Winterfell with our wolves. All three of you with your hair, Sansa’s especially.  Let them see Rickon and Sansa. They’ll probably think her a witch.” _It's not just me that has noticed then._

“I don’t believe she’s aware of it.”

“No she’s not.”

“And the Night’s Watch? We need to solve that, Jon.”

“The Night’s Watch is done, Robb. Just a few hundred men left, even less with any true skill at fighting.  Let it burn. Let it rot from its own ignorance.” His brother meant every word, Jon would happily let that organization burn. “Spare me that look. I saw you yesterday, when Sansa spoke of the riverlands. Am I wrong?”

“We need the men, you know that.”  Robb looked at the red leaves on the ground, refusing to meet his brother’s eyes, he could feel the judgment.

“Aye, we do. You mean to use them then. Is your intent to completely abandon them to their fate afterwards or will you at least attempt to govern?”

“You’ve looked at maps before, Jon. The riverlands are a rich prize with little in the way of natural defense other than some rivers. I intend to ask Sansa about the Vale too. I will try but I won't sacrifice the north again, not for them. Gods be good, why would anyone want to be king? I have tried to be like our father, strong, just, loyal, and true. Instead, I left men to a slaughter, broke a vow to marry Jeyne, and now I speak of using men. Seven Hells, Jon, we married our sister. What would father say to that?” Their father would judge them, Robb already knew that, he would say they brought shame to their family and their sister.

“Do you miss her?”

“Jeyne? She was a sweet girl, I think about her every day. You know what I feel guilty for now? Jeyne wanted to be a good wife, please me and give me children. She was a sweet girl but she could not rule, she could not run a household, or negotiate a treaty, or diplomacy, or any of the many tasks that Sansa has taken on. I dishonored her so I married her. I should have found another man to marry her, kept my vows. It’s what my mother would have counseled. Sansa and you too.” It was the truth, Sansa was born to be a queen, she could aid and support them both in a way Jeyne never could have. They needed her.

“Once, I wanted to be you. The Lord of Winterfell, Ned Stark’s trueborn son. I wanted to be brave and honorable like you. A girl, Gilly, she was with child and asked me for help but I turned her away. It was my friend Sam, a fat boy with no skill at a blade, who saved her. Our father would not have done what I did.” He paused for a while, looking at Robb intently. “I don’t wish to be you any longer. Gods be good, why would anyone want to be your hand?”

Robb laughed at his brother’s words. _Why indeed?_

“Did you know I once envied the bastard boy up at the wall, off on his adventures? I told Bran that we would go visit you, I was crying over it. Poor Bran, lying broken in his bed, tried to comfort me. I no longer envy that bastard boy, Jon."

“That’s good, the food was awful.” His brother was genuinely surprised, his poor joke failed to hide it.

“We are never going to be Lord Eddard Stark, are we?”

“No, we won’t. Do you know what I realized the morning after the wedding, Robb? A part of me wanted to prove that I was not a baseborn bastard like many have believed me to be. But, the truth is, what I wanted more, I wanted you and Sansa, I wanted all this. I may be damned through all the seven hells for it, but it’s what I want and I intend to take it. Do you remember what you told me? ‘You think you are some sort of monster for what  you are feeling. If that is so Jon, then what am I?’ Your exact words, perhaps you ought to listen to them.” Jon’s choice of words were a kindness. Robb was certain it was his own mother Jon had referred too.

“Perhaps I will. I want it too, so let us be damned together. I would rather be your brother and Sansa’s husband than anything else in this world.”

They were quiet for a few moments, listening to rustling leaves. Today had been a day for confessions, more than Robb had expected. It was not like his brother to speak as he had but his words had been a comfort.

He turned his head to notice Rickon, on all fours as he often was, with his wolf next to him. Their little brother had been watching them.

“Hello, Rickon. Where is Sansa?”

“Saying goodbye to the people, I left to go play.” He was pretending to be a wolf again. Rickon stood to walk towards them.

Robb quickly glanced at Jon, noting the expression he wore. They both worried over their little brother, likely Sansa was too. Rickon preferred to spend much of his time with Shaggydog, would often pretend to be a wolf. He could not read or write, knew nothing of heraldry or northern history, no math. He would quickly grow angry and would sometimes behave as feral as his wolf. Robb remembered the way Rickon followed him around, crying. The poor boy had been damaged by all that happened to him over the years, too young to understand any of it.

“Have you come to play in the godswood?”   

“With Shaggy, we were playing at wolves. I don’t see our mother anymore, she’s gone now. Someone took her.”

Robb did not know what to say to that, it was not the first time Rickon had made odd statements. Upon his return, he had told all of them their mother had a hole in her heart. Shortly after, he had whispered to Robb that Sansa would save Theon one day.  Another time, the boy had told him he was pretending to be Arya, she was mad like he was. It was queer and frightening.  His wolf was a problem too, Jon had mentioned more than once that Shaggy could turn violent and attack someone.

The boy said nothing else, getting back down on his hands and knees and leaving them.

“We need to do something about Rickon soon”, said Jon, not quite able to keep the worry from his voice.

“Tonight, let’s talk with Sansa. I don’t know what to do either.”

“What are we going to do about her?”

“Isn't it obvious? Whatever she wants us to do.” Robb meant that, there was little reason to consider otherwise.

Jon snorted. “That's not what I meant.”

“I think it is. What do you expect to happen? For us to fight a duel over her?”

“No, you would lose and I'd miss you. I meant what she asked of us yesterday.” It was his brother’s turn to look away, making a study of the tree’s roots. Jon’s distress was easy to see.

“I know what you meant. Like I said, whatever she wants us to do.”

“You won't be angry?”

“No. I know what you were doing too, it won't work.”  

The tension left his brother then as he turned to give Robb the barest hint of a smile. With Jon, Robb could almost call it a rather large grin. He had been honest, but his words had provided whatever comfort Jon was looking for.

“Robb, I won’t run away again or shut you out either. I hurt you both, I know.”

“You're my brother, Jon. Always.”

“I'll take care of the Night’s Watch too. I need to go, Sansa wants to visit Theon shortly.”

“Go. I wish to stay here for awhile, perhaps the gods will talk to me.”

Jon reached out, touching his shoulder briefly before leaving him. Robb stood and walked towards the hot springs before turning to look at Winterfell’s heart tree. He could not stay long, there was a letter from Asha Greyjoy that needed a response and finances to go over.  The tree’s face stared back at him, stern and judgmental. _Jon and I spoke the truth to each other today. The gods would have known if we were lying._

Robb stood for a few minutes more, feeling the gentle tickle of the wind in his hair, but it was soon time for him to leave. He had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came very close to abandoning this story after posting the previous chapter, constant negative comments wear you down after awhile. It was private messages and comments from two readers that changed my mind and made me keep going at this. I'm incredibly grateful because this chapter has turned into one of my favorites so far. I also have a couple other stories in the works that I hope to start publishing soon. 
> 
> Lastly, if you have any questions from this chapter, they will eventually get answered although it may take awhile.


	16. Introducing Reek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who left comments on the last chapter. I can not describe how great it felt reading them.

Sansa would be meeting with Theon this morning but for what purpose, she could not say. Her decision to see him once again had been an impulse but now the idea felt closer to a compulsion, it was something she needed to do. They had never been close, he was several years older and preferred the company of Robb to any of the other Stark siblings. Her strongest memory of Theon was his smile, it was a constant feature with him, always smiling as if to project an image of confidence and arrogance to the world. Sansa suspected she would find no smile on Theon’s face today, if her Robb and Jon had spoken true.

She was in the nursery with Rickon and Brienne, waiting for Jon to come and escort her. Brienne likely though to protect her from Shaggydog should the wolf suddenly decide to attack. If that were to happen, Sansa knew it would be Ghost and Grey Wind who would provide her with protection. They were here with her as well, each a silent presence with their focus on their brother. It hurt Sansa to see the three of them together, the three wolves were all littermates, part of the same pack yet Shaggydog was an outsider to them.

Rickon was playing with his wolf, wrestling with and climbing on him. Shaggy was a wild thing, temperamental and distrustful of others but always gentle and patient with her little brother. Jon had once suggested the wolf be caged for safety but she had stopped that idea, it had been Rickon’s only source of comfort and security for many years.

“Brienne, the raven was sent to Riverrun yesterday.”

“He will come Sansa, I have faith in him.”  Her face had kept its usual stoic expression, a slight widening of the eyes the only clue to Brienne’s joy over the announcement.

“Do you think he will behave?” She had her doubts, Jon and Robb would make rich targets for Jaime’s barbs.

“I trust in his honor.”

Sansa laughed, that did not quite answer her question. “I suppose that will be enough.”

“Sansa.” Rickon left Shaggy to walk towards her.

“My little wolf”, she replied, giving him a tender smile.

“Are you going to save Theon now?” He asked in a flat voice, the way a person would inquire whether you wished for butter with your oatcakes.

Sansa reached out to take Rickon’s hand in her own, considering how best to answer him. “I will be going to visit him shortly. Do you believe he needs me to save him?”

“Yes.”

Rickon said nothing else, returning to his play with Shaggydog.

“Are you ready?”

Sansa turned at the sound of Jon’s voice. _No. I have grown frightened._ She stood and crossed the room to him.  “I have missed you, husband”, she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

Jon remained quiet but his face spoke loudly, pride and satisfaction mixed together. Sansa would swear his chest even grew in size. _Husband. He likes that word, I must remember that._

“Brienne, would you watch over Rickon for me? Grey Wind will stay with you.”  To protect her but Sansa did not speak that thought aloud.

“Ghost, to me.”

Jon offered her his arm and they left, the direwolf following behind.

“I need to visit my chambers first, to fetch my cloak.”  

He guided them to her rooms, pushing her through the door and barring it behind them. He was practically beaming at her, his smile both pleased and wolfish. _He thinks to stalk prey._

“You spoke to Robb this morning.” Sansa did not know why she said that, she had meant to tease him. Stepping closer, she cupped Jon’s face with her hands, fingers stroking his beard.

“How did you know?” Jon leaned into her, he seemed almost vulnerable to Sansa in that moment.

_I am not sure._ She glided her hands down his cheeks, to his neck, settling on his shoulders. “Here. The guilt, the weight of it, hangs less heavy on your shoulders. I am glad of it, whatever you spoke of.  Do you think yourself wrong for wanting the things you do? Us and Robb, here together in Winterfell? You should not.” Sansa paused to cup his face once more, gently tugging so he would look down at her. “Can I tell you something, Jon? Do you know what I have wished for? I wished for you to love me, for Robb to love me, to be here in Winterfell with you both. I wished to wake in the morning and feel the strength and warmth of your body next to mine. Now, ask me if I feel guilty for that.”

“Do you? Do you feel guilty?” The vulnerability was still there, but she could see hope now too.

Sansa leaned in closer so her mouth was against his ear, whispering, “No.”

“Gods, Sansa.” Jon’s grey eyes darkened, black pools against his skin. His arms had laid against his sides while they spoke but he moved them to her, pulling her hips closer to him.

“Have I said too much?”

“No.”

She looked at him again, his eyes intense. Jon lapped up her words, the way a newborn babe would suckle at his mother’s breast. “Let me tell you of my sins. I have killed too, you know that. My sweetrobin, a little boy who had lost both parents, I used to get angry with him, sometimes I did not care what happened to him as long as he left me alone. I used to hurt our sister Arya, preferring mean words rather than trying to understand her. I went to Cersei because I wanted my stupid worm-lipped prince. And Janos Slynt, ugly frog faced Janos Slynt. I hated that man, I wanted a hero, a hero of my own, to push him down like he did our father, push him down and chop off his head for me. So you see my husband, my Jon, I have sins too, just as-”

She could not finish, Jon’s lips pressed against her own,  harsh, demanding entrance. His hands on her hips pulled her even closer, their bodies completely pressed together.

“Am I? Am I yours, Sansa?” His voice was low and rough, steel on stone.

“Of course. Who else's would you be?”

He did not answer, choosing to lift her instead. “Put your legs around me.” His words came out heated and breathy against the inside of her neck. A shiver spread through her, hot and cold all at once. Sansa did as he asked, felt the muscles of his back and stomach clench and tighten as he moved her backwards, positioning her between him and the hard, unyielding wall.

“I promised to take you to Theon and I will. But, I want you first, Sansa, now. I want you now.” She felt the velvet slide of his fingers up the inside of her leg as he spoke.

Sansa could only nod, her ability to speak was gone. She wanted too. Dimly, she realized he was untying the front of his breeches, pulling them down low on his hips then his hands were sliding up, stroking over her thighs. She felt him tugging and pulling, heard a soft rip and her small clothes were gone, she was bare for him. Jon’s fingers entered her, slow and gentle strokes.

“Jon, please.”

He look at her, eyes blown, desire and love mixing together. _I cast my spell on you._ Suddenly his fingers were gone and he was entering her, filling her with the long, thick length of him. Jon began murmuring filthy words as he thrust up  into her. Beautifully, delicious, filthy words. Sansa tried but could only give him sighs and moans in response as he moved faster and faster and faster. Their gazes stayed locked on each other. _Can you hear me Jon? Do you feel it? Do you feel what I feel? Do you?_

“I love you too, Jon Snow.”

He stopped, giving a final thrust into her, shuddering as a painfully sweet sound escaped his lips. He delivered several open mouthed kisses along her neck before whispering, “You are a witch, Sansa, using your magics on me. You have made me your thrall.” Jon gently lowered her back to the floor, holding her in place for a moment, her thighs had grown weak.

“No, I am merely your wife.”

“You will never be merely my wife.” He wound his fingers through her hair, bending to give her a final kiss. After, they stood still for a moment, foreheads pressed together.

All too soon, they stood before the broken tower together, her hair now in a braid, a package in her arms.

“Sansa, before we go, you need to know. Theon, he is not as you remember him. After Stannis lost his second battle, the Boltons took him back, did things to him. A part of me thinks we should just make an end of him, it would be a mercy. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

She nodded. Rickon’s earlier question returned to her. _Am I going to save him?_ Sansa grew afraid, she did not want to go, she wanted to return back to her rooms, back to Jon’s arms. “I understand, Jon. I am ready. “

He escorted her into the tower, to a room on the bottom floor and she saw. She was wrong, Sansa was not ready. Before her was a creature that had once been Theon Greyjoy. He was alone in a spartan room, seeming not to notice their presence. Sansa had known many broken men, she had sung for them, carried their honor, even married them. This was different. Theon was no mere broken man. He was an empty shell, the person that had once been Theon was gone, just pieces of him, ripped and torn apart, remaining.

“Hello, Theon.” Sansa hoped her words came out in the even and calming tone she meant them to be.

He turned, his focus settling on her, that made it worse. She could see his eyes and his mouth and his hands. _Look, Sansa. Look at him, look and see._ His hair had gone white, sparse and broken like straw. Theon could have been an old man, his body was aged, almost bent, thinned from the passage of time. She could see his bones, his cheeks drawn and emaciated. Several teeth were missing and many of those left were broken. His skin was paler than even snow, thin and brittle like old parchment paper. Sansa would see no smiles from this Theon Greyjoy.

“Sansa. Are you here to kill me? Please don’t burn me, I don’t want to burn.” As he spoke, Theon seemed to try and shrink into himself, as if to hide away from her. His words sent pinpricks of fear and terror and horror all over her body. He spoke to Sansa but his eyes were on the man who accompanied her.

She saw Jon and understood. He always gazed at her with love, his touches were soft and tender. But that was for her, not Theon. This Jon is the one she sometimes spied in the training yard when he was teaching recruits, he looked harsh and forbidding, like the old kings of winter. If Sansa had not seen the other side, the part of him that was her Jon, she would be frightened too.

She walked towards him to stroke his beard, hoping he would understand. “Jon, can you leave?”

His focus remained on Theon, the clench of his jaw betraying his anger. “On the other side of the door, it stays open. I’ll go no further.”

She kissed him in thanks before turning her attention back to Theon.

“I won’t hurt or burn you, Theon. The only weapon I possess is a simple sewing needle. Sewing needles create and repair, they lack the power to destroy.” Sansa had hoped to ease his discomfort, at least a little. She did not, Theon was still folded in on himself, a pathetic sort of defense.

“Don’t call him Lord Snow. He won’t like that, he’ll hurt you.” Theon’s voice was dry and raspy from disuse.

_Jon? Why would Jon hurt someone for that?_ She was confused. Instead, Sansa pulled apart the soft package she still held. Theon’s appearance told her the gift she had prepared would not be enough.

“I made you a doublet, it’s black with the kraken of your house on it. I remember you had one like it once in velvet. This one is only lambswool but it will serve better, winter is coming soon.” Sansa paused, waiting for a response. Theon said nothing, it was as if she was no longer in the room. “Here, I made you handkerchiefs too, several of them. They have your initials, for your name, Theon Greyjoy.”

She did not understand why but he took notice of her handkerchiefs. He eyed them, taking note of the black fabric and the gold of his initials.  Sansa approached him, stopping a couple paces from where he stood, partially hidden behind the foot of his bed.

“Do you wish to take them?”  She held out the pieces of fabric to him.

Theon reached forward, accepting her gift. Sansa noticed, counting only seven fingers. Jon had said the Boltons did things to him, she wondered if that meant fingers.

“Seven. Seven is a sacred number.”

“It is. I never knew you followed the Faith, Theon. You are ironborn, do you not believe in the drowned god? Of late, I have taken to my own father’s gods, I say my prayers by the Winterfell heart tree now.”

“I saw him, I saw your brother, Bran, in the tree once. He said my name, he said ‘Theon’.”

“They spoke to you, the gods wished you to know he was well. They speak to me sometimes too, the leaves whisper.”

He sat down, choosing the floor rather than the comfort of a chair so close by. She did not know what do, uncertain of what to say. Sansa looked around for a moment, noticing the small space between the bed and wall. She felt sick, finally understanding what Theon had done. He slept there, choosing the hard ground to rest at night instead of the comfort of a feather mattress. _Like a dog._ Sansa wanted Jon to return, to be next to her and lend her comfort but he would remain outside. She had asked him to leave and he would respect her wishes. Sansa would prefer he did not.

There was nothing else to be done, she pulled up her skirts and lowered herself next to him. Theon did not move or speak, remaining as he was, bent forward with his arms crossed over his knees.

“Theon, would you like your old rooms back? You could move back into them if you wish it.” _I should not have asked. He suspects a trap._ Sansa was growing tired, the room, the horror in it, was slowly draining her. She could not stay much longer.

“No, those are not my rooms. I don’t belong there, not anymore”, Theon whispered to her.

“I will make more clothes for you, I would very much like too. Do you have a cloak? Could I make one for you? A black one with a kraken on it.” Sansa hoped he would accept her offer. _I hope in vain._

Her words met only silence. His current garments were closer to rags than items suitable for a lord of his station. Sansa thought to pay the iron price, she would raid Jon and Robb’s wardrobe, pillage a few of their more plain tunics. He could not wear their other items, his body had grown too small and shrunken.

“Theon, could I come back tomorrow? I would like to visit with you again, will you let me?”

“If you wish.”

She held out her hand to him but he did not accept. She knew he would not.

“Goodbye, Theon. I will come back, I promise.”

She left him, left that room with the bed on the ground, to find Jon waiting for her just as he said he would. His arm was out, pulling her to him. “Come.”

He led her away, outside to the lichyard, away to a grave site. “Lady, you brought me to Lady.”

“I thought you would find comfort here, next to her.”

Sansa practically threw herself into his arms. “You told me but I did not understand.”

“You mean to help him.”

“I believe I need to try. Do you think me foolish?”

He put a finger under her chin, gently tilting it so she looked up at him. “No, Sansa. I think you kind. I understand why but you’ll need to explain yourself to Robb. He took Theon’s betrayal much harder than I ever did.”

“Tomorrow, will you come with me again? I told Theon I would visit with him.” She rested her head against him, could feel the slight movements of his chest as he drew breath. “I’ll go see Robb, I will tell him. I wish to stay here a moment longer first.” Jon was right, she did find comfort so close to Lady.

“We can stay as long as you like.” They did, standing close in each other’s arms, their cloaks lightly moving in the wind.

Eventually, he escorted her back to the great keep, to Robb who would want explanations. Sansa did not know what she would tell him, she had no explanations, just a question from Rickon.

“He will agree, Sansa, if you ask.” Jon gave her a gentle kiss to the forehead and left. Sansa felt abandoned.

She knew to look for Robb in his solar, he would be at his desk, so she knocked and waited until she heard an acknowledgement from before entering. He was studying a sheet of paper when she walked in, not noticing it was her that had joined him.

“Robb.”

He flashed a grin, pleased she was there. “Jon and I have a scheme to increase our timber production.”  He paused to point at the parchment she has seen him with. “Asha Greyjoy here thinks to purchase some to rebuild her iron fleet. Should I admire her stones or think her a fool? What do you believe?”

“About timber?” She did not think on timber at all.  “I believe it is a lot of wood.”

He seemed to find that a well-done jape, breaking into a laugh. “Indeed, it is a lot of wood, but I was referring to the Greyjoy offer. Should we agree to her terms?”

“What does she want?”

He handed her what turned out to be a short letter, a purchase offer detailing need, amounts, and delivery. It told Sansa nothing at all. “That’s not what I meant. We need coin but you hesitate. Why does she want to rebuild a fleet? Why does she come to the north and not the westerlands? The ironborn are nothing but reavers and rapers yet she comes to you. What does she want?”

“She has a notion to move her people towards shipping but their fleet is all but completely gone. The north destroyed a number of ships and her uncles took care of the rest, battling each other for the kingship. Their islands are poor, lumps of rock in the ocean. She came to us because she has nowhere else to go and we have her brother.”

Theon. She had not told Robb of him yet, letting herself be distracted by talk of wood and boats. “I can tell you Alysane Mormont does not count the woman friend but does have some respect for her. She considered the notion to invade the north a foolish one.”

“You think we should?”

Sansa was not sure, they needed coin and if this Asha Greyjoy could do as she hoped, it would greatly benefit the north. “If you believe she can do as she says, then yes.” Nothing would come from further delay. “Robb, I just came from seeing Theon.”

He went stiff in his chair, the relaxed pose gone, his lord’s face upon him. Standing before him, Sansa felt more a subject than his wife or queen. “You intend to try and help him?”

“I think I should. He was a prisoner of the Boltons twice, Stannis, and now us. Yet, here he lives, with us. Maybe he has a reason for being here, I think maybe I am supposed to.” Sansa had no other explanation to offer, her words sounded feeble even to her.

“All right. Do so, if that is your wish.” His lord’s face was gone, replaced with one of pain.

“I am sorry, Robb. I’ve hurt you.” She could see it, Jon spoke true, Theon’s betrayal had been hard for him.

He stood up and approached her, wrapping his hand in her braid. “You don’t hurt me, Sansa. I had planned to execute the man when I learned of what he did. I thought he killed our brothers for the longest time. You saw him, saw what he is. We found him with the Bolton hounds after taking back Winterfell. A part of me was repulsed by him and another part of me pitied him. Our agreement with Asha gave me an excuse not to kill him and I was glad for it.”

She leaned into Robb, putting her arms around him. “I wanted to hate him too. Theon has committed a great many sins, but, I think, maybe he has paid for them too. Father would be proud of you.”

He looked at her for a moment before responding, “Would he? I am not so sure.”

Sansa was surprised, not sure why Robb would doubt it. “Of course he would. You fought to save him, took back our uncle and grandfather’s home. I tell you true, I heard tales of you in King’s Landing, of how you fought, I felt a fierce pride over it. You took back the north, it’s your presence that led to us all back here at Winterfell together. Winter is coming and you prepare the north for it, as Starks have always done. Why would you think any different?”

“I think you know.”

_Of course, I should have seen it. You are both truly sons of Eddard Stark._ “I arranged it but that matters little, you prefer to accept sole responsibility for your actions, no matter the circumstances around them. I wish I had the words to comfort you, to convince you otherwise.” She paused for a moment, putting her hands on his chest. “Can I tell you how I feel? I prefer to look to our future, to find our happiness in this with you. What are you doing?” She could feel him pulling at her braid.

“Taking out your braid, I like your hair down.”  He unwound the strands, separating her tresses with his fingers, before spreading her hair along her back and shoulders. “Much better. You should wear it this way more.”

Sansa smiled, the melancholy was leaving him. “I can not. My hair would knot and snarl in the wind.”

“I’ll appoint someone to follow you around with all your combs and brushes.”

She reached up, lightly pulling at his auburn curls. “Yours needs cutting again. I’ll do it tomorrow, after your bath, your hair will be wet then.”

“You should look through my dressing room, find some tunics that need mending.”

Sansa giggled. _I sound like a little girl._ “You tease me.”

He broke into a wide grin. “I never tease.”

“You lie too.”

“Not possible, I’m a noble and honest northman.”

She laughed, Robb had taken away the last of the pain she had been carrying with her since leaving Theon.

He traced her lips with one of his fingers. “You should undress.”

“During the day? I shouldn’t.”

“You should.”

“What of you?”

“I will after you.”

She began to undress, beginning with her cloak and boots before moving to her stockings. Her dress was easy enough, a few buttons and ties on the side. Sansa felt Robb’s eyes on her but she avoided meeting them. Finally, she was left in nothing but a thin chemise which she took off after taking a deep breath.

“Your turn.”

He repeated her actions, removing his boots first, followed by his leathers and tunic. His breeches came next, she could not look away while he untied them. He pulled them down and off, taking his small clothes with him.

Sansa reached towards him, lightly moving the fingers of one hand, tracking the veins of his arms to a gnarled scar on his shoulder. “Are these from arrow wounds?”

Robb looked to where her hand rested on his shoulder. “I got that one when we took the Crag.”

She moved her hand lower, to a narrow scar by his hip. “And this one here?”

“I don’t know, can’t remember.” He took her hand in his and brought it up to his shoulder before stepping in closer to kiss her.

She put her arms around his neck, enjoying the feel of him against her. His lips moved to her neck, by her ear before slowly kissing his way back. Sansa felt his hands behind her legs, lifting her up and carrying her to the bed in his chambers and laying her down.

She looked at Robb, he stood, staring down at her. “Robb, come, please.”

His attention shifted to her face, he smiled before joining her. “You say it’s my presence that drew us all back to Winterfell. It’s yours that made us all a family again.”

“Robb.”

He did not respond, choosing to lean down and kiss the space between her breasts, moving lower and lower, leaving a trail of soft kisses down her belly almost to her mound as he moved over her. “Put your legs over my shoulders, Sansa.” She did as he asked, a shiver of delight running through her as she realized his intent.

He placed his arms under her thighs, holding her still before bending down. At the first lick, Sansa let out a moan and began squirming under him. His tongue and mouth were everywhere, licking and sucking, he was determined to take her to all the seven heavens. “Robb.” This time his name came out more a whimper than anything else. She could feel the tension build before she shuddered, letting the waves of bliss roll through her.

Robb pulled away and moved up her body. “Sansa. Do you…” He did not finish but she knew the question he wanted to ask.

Sansa cupped his face with her hands before answering. “Yes, always.”  

He said nothing else, placing one hand under her knee and using the other to guide himself inside her. Sansa felt filled, she felt whole. He began to thrust into her, Sansa heard herself moaning in response, rolling her hips against him in an attempt to match his rhythm. She was lost in the pleasure of it, loving the feel of his skin against hers, the heavy breaths against her cheek, the movement of his hips under her hands. “Robb..Robb…” She began to repeat his name, a chant she could not stop. He became almost frantic, his grunts became even deeper, guttural. Sansa loved his sounds, loved the wordless responses he gave when he was with her. Robb stilled, pressing himself into her.

“Are you alright?” he whispered.

“Yes, always,” Sansa responded, repeating her earlier answer.

Robb chuckled before giving her a final kiss and moving off, pulling her with him.

Sansa laid in his arms, her head on his chest. Her mind turned to the treasure box she had been building in her head, full of every precious memory she had collected since returning home.

“What are you thinking of?”

Sansa turned to look up at Robb, he had been watching her. “It sounds ridiculous to speak of aloud. It was something I did after coming back to Winterfell. I pretended to have a treasure box of memories and would put moments in it for safekeeping. Do you remember the first time the three of us went riding together or that afternoon you spent showing me how to use knives? Those are in my treasure box. The first time we saw Rickon, too. And now, here, this moment, that will be another treasure too. It sounds silly to speak of it.”

He placed his hands in her hair, gently stroking. “It isn’t silly or ridiculous, Sansa. These past years have been painful for us all, I hope you become a very rich woman.”

“Robb, I’ve grown tired. Do you mind if I stay here and rest for awhile?” Speaking the words, Sansa realized how true they were. Robb had taken away the pain of her meeting with Theon but the exhaustion that had been growing was still with her.

“Why would I mind? I’ll stay here with you until you fall asleep.”

Sansa closed her eyes, beginning to drift off, lulled by the gentle rhythm of Robb’s chest. The last thing she heard was Robb saying, “Jon is right, they will think you a witch.” But, she was certain that was merely a part of her dream.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read all of the Theon chapters in Dance before starting to write and then tackled his section first. I don't think I'll ever do another Theon/Dance only re-read ever in my life.  
> That was tough.


	17. A Family

He opened the door to Robb’s solar, not considering a knock first. He now spent more time in Robb or Sansa’s chambers than his own, had not slept a single night in his bed since the wedding. Jon had come to enjoy the closeness, the growing intimacy between the three of them.

His brother sat in front of the fire, feet up on a stool, unaware of his presence.

“Robb.”

The man’s neck snapped up at the sound of his name. “Oh. Jon.”

He snorted at Robb’s tone. “Disappointed, brother? Hoping for red hair and teats in a pretty blue dress?” He poked at his brother but shared the same desire. The guests of these past many days were gone, Winterfell was now just their home again. Jon wanted a quiet evening with her as much as Robb did.

“You’d look pretty in a blue dress, you always did have the loveliest curls.” Robb had never ceased to think this amusing.

“Her crown is done, we can give it to her tomorrow,” he said, ignoring the jape. He had learned as a child that responses never helped.

His brother smirked before responding, “I hope she likes it.” _Stop talking, Robb_. The crown was another idea from his brother, it was similar to his only smaller and lighter. The blue roses had been his suggestion, the fabric and jewelry had all come from Robb. Jon wished to give her more, something that came from only him, if only he had an idea of what she would like. He had never had reason to buy presents for a woman before.

“She will. Read this,” he said, handing his brother a missive before coming to rest on the settee next to him. Ghost moved closer to the fire, coming to rest by his brother. He could feel his wolf, the animal had grown a hunger.

Robb read through the contents before laughing. “What do you intend to do? No, let me guess. Let them rot? Or will you throw them on the funeral pyre?” The man could hardly get the words out.

Jon’s mouth twisted.“Your jests are neither helpful nor appreciated.” He waited patiently for his brother to quiet before continuing. “I intend to give them the same offer I gave the free folk. They can choose or they can serve.”

Robb grew serious before replying, “An apple or an onion, then?” He understood.

“Aye, an apple or an onion. They’ll choose to serve though once they realize.They did not want me as Lord Commander, they will take me as their Lord.” The Night’s Watch had been reduced to a heap of cravens and criminals. If the reports he still received proved true, the watch had begun to fight a war with itself. Jon wanted it completely broken before he sent any aid.

“You intend to make them pay homage as a vassal would.”

“And destroy thousands of years of tradition in the process. But, at least we will make a weapon of them.” _Thousands of years of corrupted tradition._ He would need to return eventually, Robb would want to go too, he was certain of that.

“And your wildlings?” _He wants the men, I’ll wager. Maybe even the women._

“Ravens left today. They will not like it.” Likely, they would end up destroying the free folk too. Stannis had defeated them in the field and he had brought them to heel when they chose to live south of the wall. Now, they would finish it.

“Should that concern us?” Robb looked at him, only mildly curious, already knowing the answer.

“No. Have you spoken to Sansa yet? “ he asked. Jon had guessed not, otherwise Robb would not have been so distracted when he arrived. He understood what his brother intended and why, Jon could find no fault with him. But Robb had spoken true that morning, their father would not feel pride over their actions. However, He had been honest as well, Jon would rather be Robb’s brother and Sansa’s husband than anything else. They could not live a life defined by a dead man, Robb would understand that eventually.

“Tonight. I had meant to do so earlier but we grew distracted.” _You fucked her then. I did too._ Jon was not surprised, had expected it. Sansa had been pale and shaking when she emerged from Theon’s room.

“Distracted, no doubt by household accounts,” Jon said, laughing. He had expected it but still enjoyed the slight reddening on his brother’s cheeks. He didn’t understand why, Jon was just as intimate with her, Robb had even witnessed it on more than one occasion. He had not meant to take her earlier that day, had merely hoped to steal a kiss from her. Then she had begun to speak and it felt as if a compulsion had taken him, he’d pushed her against a wall before ripping her small clothes off.

They were silent for a few moments, waiting for Sansa to appear.

“What happened with Theon?” Robb’s spoke quietly, his gaze once more on the fire before him. The flames brought out the red in his hair, it lacked the bright copper of Sansa’s but was a strong reminder of his Tully heritage. Jon had always viewed Robb as another northman, the reminder of his Riverland heritage felt surprising. Robb didn’t belong in the south, never had.

Jon considered what to tell him. He remembered the day they had found the thing once called Theon Greyjoy. He’d been in the kennels, hidden away amongst the Bolton hounds, covered in bruises and sores. Theon had begged them to kill him and Jon had been happy to oblige. He’d had a dagger in his hand, ready to make an end of it when he’d felt Robb’s hand on his shoulder. “I was not in the room, I only heard. He spoke to her though.”

“She did something then.”

He did not respond, the chattering of a young child interrupting them.

“She brought that feral creature with her.”

Jon snickered. “The wolf or the boy?” Or both.

“Are you two whispering about me?” Her voice was teasing, that was good. She had not heard them speak of Rickon. His suggestion to cage Shaggy had not been well received.

Sansa turned her attention back to the boy, not waiting for an answer. He paid little notice to their play at first, at least until he realized the story she was feeding him.

“Sansa!”

She looked at him, her face innocent. “Is something the matter?”

Jon was not sure how to respond, her tale was a bare-faced lie.

“I believe what Jon is trying to say is that a story of the beautiful princess being saved from the evil pink men by two wolves is a bit much. Tell him something else. Tell him Florian and Jonquil, you always liked that one.” Robb had not cared for her story any more than he had, it felt wrong to hear them spoken of that way.

“I no longer care for that story.” He wondered at that, it used to be a favorite of hers. Jon remembered her as a child, she would put bows in Lady’s hair, quietly singing to her. Sansa’s wolf was truly a lady, it was no mere name. She was gentle and obedient, eager to please, just as Sansa was. He was fairly certain the pain of her wolf’s loss played a large role in Sansa believing her dreams the way she did.

“Come, my little wolf.” She took Rickon in hand, bringing him with her to sit on the settee next to him. The boy ended up crawling into her lap, his eyes were already closing to rest, his head snuggling against her chest. _Lucky boy._

Shaggydog sat across from them, his focus on the charge in Sansa’s arms. Jon found it concerning, it was as if the wolf watched her, ready to hunt and devour should he decide she threatened Rickon. Ghost and Grey Wind lay further away, seemingly at ease but Jon could sense his wolf, they were guarding her. He had seem them fight the black beast into submission on more than occasion, would doubtless do so again.

“My little wolf has gone to sleep.” Her voice was quiet, a hand stroking Rickon’s hair.

He stood up and put his arms out, reaching for Rickon. “I’ll take him to the nursery.” He needed to take the wolves too.

******

“Them as well?” Sansa looked over at Robb who was nodding towards Ghost and Grey Wind.

“I thought the wolfswood for them, they want to run,” said Jon in answer.

“And hunt.” Robb was looking directly at Jon while speaking, his eyes seemed to brighten as he spoke.

“And hunt.” She could only call Jon’s smile savage. He left with the sleeping boy, the wolves following behind, no command seemed to be necessary.

They were talking about more than the wolves, she knew that much, and they both took pleasure in it.

“Robb? Why were you both pleased about your wolves?”

“We intend to join them tonight, it will be the first time since before our wedding.”

“At night?” _You would leave my bed to catch a fox in the dark?_

“No, Sansa, not like you think. We’ve told you before that we slip into them, it’s what we intend to do tonight.” Robb grinned as he spoke the words but he never took his attention from the fire. The excitement she saw did not quite overtake something else, he was distracted.

“What’s it like when you slip? How did you know about the hunting, how did you know they wanted to go?” Sansa almost immediately regretted asking, now she would be forced to confront all that she could not do, would never do.

“I suppose we enter them in a way. We see as they do, smell and hear as they do. We are still us but we become part of the wolf too. Hunting, we stalk prey and taste their flesh and blood.” Robb unconsciously licked his lips when speaking those final words, that told her more than anything else he had said.

“You enjoy it.” She was not questioning him, she could see the joy on his face, there was an intensity to it she did not like at all.

“We both do. For awhile, we aren’t men, there is no kingdom or war, all the responsibility is gone. It has its uses too. How do you think I found that goat trail at Oxcross? Jon has done the same with Ghost. It took him awhile to admit what he is, I think knowing I’m the same as him helped. We’ve come to believe we are skinchangers as well, we want to do more. It would be a great feat to see as the crow sees, better than any scout.” He paused, a queer expression coming over him. “Or a raven.” Robb shook his head, as if to rid himself of an unpleasant thought.

He continued after a moment. “As to how we know, I suppose we can feel it. They can feel us too, it’s grown stronger over time. They know when we are angry or feel threatened. Haven’t you wondered why Ghost and Grey Wind stay with you all the time? They do it because of us.”

Sansa wanted to feel joy for them both, truly she did, but his words hurt deeply, a series of piercing stab wounds in her heart. The more Robb explained, the more her pain grew. She was no warg, she knew that but Sansa had thought her bond with their wolves ran nearly as deep. She was a fool. Sansa would never have what they did, their father had murdered Lady. “I thought...I thought they cared for me, saw me as they do the both of you.”

“They do, they consider you part of the pack, both of them. Sansa, I did not mean to cause you distress.” She had made no attempt to hide it.

Robb stood, moving towards her to take the place previously occupied by Jon. “Come here.” He pulled her close, her head lay against his shoulder. “Sansa, what I meant, they do not stay with you because we order them too, they stay because they know how we feel. Ghost and Grey Wind, they consider you a part of our pack, just as much as they are or Jon and I. You are a warg too, don’t you remember how Lady was with you? You used to feed her scraps under the table, do you remember that? The proper Sansa Stark, feeding scraps to a beast, you bonded with her too, I do not doubt it.”

Sansa heard Jon enter behind them, his steps quick and graceful as he moved closer. _He walks the same as he spars_. She had noticed that with Jon before, his movements were almost cat-like when he had a sword on him. He came up to them, placing his hands through her hair briefly before speaking, “Robb is right, you did. I think you will again some day.” He took a moment to place himself in the chair next to Robb, legs splayed out before him. Jon looked a man at ease. “Sansa, what do we do about Rickon?”

There was nothing wrong with their little wolf, not truly. “Do about Rickon? We love him, give him the security he needs, we give him patience. The rest will come.”

She felt a finger lightly stroking her cheek. “Security? He’s behind the walls of Winterfell.”

“No, Robb, I do not speak of his physical security. First, his father left and his sisters, then Jon and mother. He was left here with just you and Bran but then you left too. All he had was another boy, scarcely older than he was. So, I smother him in love, he needs it. He needs you both to teach him, care for him as our father did with the both of you. That’s all we need to do.” Sansa did not speak the rest aloud, she was almost certain she was right. The three of them had found strength in each other and in their home, it would work for Rickon too.

“What of the things he says? It’s chilling, Sansa, the way he speaks sometimes. He talks about your mother and he has asked about you and Theon more than once.”

She looked over at Jon, he would not be entirely satisfied with her answer. “You both have gifts, maybe I do as well. Perhaps the gods speak to him or he has dreams as I once did. It changes nothing for any of us.” He looked away from her then, understanding.

“I meant to ask you earlier today, what you said after the council meeting, about the Riverlands. What of the Vale?” His attention had been on the fire while they spoke of Rickon. No longer, he was looking at her now, staring really. This was the topic that had distracted him since she had joined them.

“Their food or their armies?” She paused briefly, gazing up at Robb, realizing what he was asking. “You want it all, I see, and you wish for me to help deliver it to you. All right. Tomorrow, I will show you my Vale correspondence. Royce holds Sweetrobin, convince him and the other Lords Declarant and you will have the Vale. Several wished to join you once before, they will wish to do so again. Harry wil not like it but he’ll be busy laying with his newest mistress. You will have the Vale, Robb, and the Riverlands.” Sansa would need to learn more about the Lannisters but did not mention that, they would not appreciate her source of information.

She had pleased Robb, that was good. Sansa was certain she would be doing the same for Jon soon, she would bring his friend Sam here to Winterfell shortly, just as soon as he went to Highgarden for her. The only disappointment she had encountered was Ellaria in Dorne but that was a pain she would be sharing with someone else.

“How do you do it?”

Jon’s question pulled her from her reverie, she looked at him, confused. “How do I do what?”

Robb seemed to know what Jon asked. “What you do with people. How do you know exactly what to say, even with those you never met?”

Jon spoke over him. “How did you know to speak of his son to Manderly? How did you know to pull Glover into a child’s game? How did you know that weirwood dress was the right one to wear? How did you get Theon to speak?”

Sansa looked between the two of them, uncertain of an answer, uncertain how to explain when she did not always understand. Sometimes she spoke when not meaning to, it was how Ser Dontos became a fool. “I remember father once telling you both to know your men. Part of knowing them is to also know what they want. Manderly sacrificed to get his son back, so I spoke to that. Glover almost lost his children to the Greyjoys, so I pulled him into a child’s game. The dress, I have had it for awhile. I chose it based upon that meeting. And Theon, he needed someone to see him so I did.”

She paused, hoping that her explanation would satisfy. Sansa hoped in vain, they were still curious. She had known they had seen her with others although she wondered if they realized she did the same with the two of them. She thought not. “I watch people, try to see what others miss. I knew that father loved our mother’s hair, he used to touch it all the time, it was an absent gesture he hardly noticed. Jon, you flexed the fingers of your right hand just before asking me of Rickon.

“I started when we were all still children, I suppose. Some of what I saw was naive but I had a better understanding of social rules than any of you ever did. I saw who deferred to who, small changes in behavior amongst the staff. I can tell you both there were differences in how you were both treated once but those differences are gone now. Our household and all our bannerman view Jon the same way they do you, Robb, and I know that is exactly what you wanted.

“In King’s Landing, I made a study of people. Everyone thought me a stupid girl so they often took little care around me and I encouraged them in thinking me simple. I saw the smiles that could not quite be suppressed and the brief flashes of fear. I use that to figure out what people want so I try to give that to them. As you are asking me, that means you notice that I am very rarely wrong. It has been a useful skill and now I use it for the benefit of both of you.”

They were not completely satisfied, but pushed no further. She was glad of it, some things were for her alone. The conversation drifted until Jon and Robb began to talk of fighting and swords as she had known it would. Sansa was content to only half listen, primarily focusing on the embroidery in front of her. She would be making several pieces for Theon, he had responded most strongly to her when she spoke his name. Sansa planned to make Theon a personal sigil, something only for him, a way for him to forge a new identity.

It was only later, as she was preparing for bed, that Sansa realized she had never spoken of the blacksmiths. It made no matter. Alysane Mormont would be in Winterfell soon enough to work with Brienne and her Robb and Jon always did as she wished in the end.


	18. Jaime Returns to Winterfell

Sansa could not imagine a more perfect way to begin her day, with Robb’s fingers squeezing her hips and the sight of his chest and shoulders below her.

“Robb...Robb..please” she cried out, a keening sound escaping her lips every time he thrust up into her. Sansa kept moving, trying to keep pace with him as she lost herself in the pleasure of it all.

“That’s my wife...come with me, Sansa...come on.” His words come out between harsh and low grunts.

Sansa loved those sounds of his, the guttural responses she ripped from his body when he was with her. It was those sounds that sent her over the edge, her peak shattering and sending little ripples all through her body. She felt light headed and struggled to focus, lost in the sensations, tiny lightning bolts radiating out from her center.

“Fuck, Sansa.” His movements grew even more urgent, his rhythm lost as Robb’s thrusts grew fierce. She looked down at him, his eyes glazed and jaw clenched in concentration. A trickle of sweat fell down his chest, she reached down to lick at it with her tongue. That did it, Robb stilled, spilling his seed within her.

She fell forward, resting her head upon his chest, feeling Robb’s arms come around her as their breath slowed and once again grew even. After a moment, he lifted her off him and laid her on the bed next to him, moving so his head lay across her breasts.

“I believe I’ll use your teats as my pillow from now on,” he whispered to her before giving a light kiss to her left nipple.

Sansa placed one of her hands in his hair, lightly combing it with her fingers. “Jon said something similar once, he would use my belly as a pillow.”

He laughed, seeming to find that amusing.  She did not know why, Sansa had loved Jon’s declarations, his sweet worship of her. “He can have your belly, I’ll take your teats.”

At times, she felt as if they fought over her breasts, like young children arguing over who could eat the last honey cake. She had not yet experienced the tenderness in them she had heard some women did. Sansa hoped she did not, could imagine their complaints over it.

“Robb, when will they be here?” Jon had left two days before to escort Jaime and his party to Winterfell. This was a day Sansa had been waiting for, anticipating since she had sent that raven to Riverrun over two moons ago.

“It’s less than a day’s ride from Cerwyn lands, before midday I should expect. He’ll be ready to leave before first light, if I know Jon. Have you told him of his friend Sam?”

Sansa had let slip her secret to Robb after telling the both of them her blacksmith idea. Jon had taken to it readily and Robb had acquiesced when he saw the women, they were as big as Brienne. Now, Alysane Mormont was putting more women to use and Sam would help even more.

“No, I had hoped to tell him tonight.” Sansa had gifts not just for Jon but Robb too, if Jaime had been able to do all she had asked of him. There was more, another gift for the two of them she would be sharing. Mari and Brienne knew but they kept her secrets.

Robb reached up to deliver soft kisses to her lips and cheeks. “You seem especially pleased this morning,” he whispered to her.

Sansa could not quite keep the grin from her face. “I am. The man I love desperately chose to remain in bed with me and Jon will be returning to us shortly. Why do you both always wake so early? It’s indecent.” She was pleased, Robb had the right of it. Most mornings, she woke to an empty bed. Today would go in her treasure box, she knew it would. “More, Jaime will be here today. I have waited a long time for this.”

Robb sighed before moving, twisting his body so he laid between her legs, arms on either side of her, holding his weight. “Sansa, we promised we would listen to him, that is all. Do not expect offers of friendship or alliances with him or any other Lannister. That would only lead to your disappointment.”

Sansa refused to worry, they had given her their word so she only nodded in acceptance. “Do you need to leave my bed quite yet?” She placed her hands on his chest, a gentle hint of her desire.

“No, not yet. I believe I want to go again.”  

She smiled, Sansa wanted that too.

Robb leaned down and began to kiss her.

*

She was meeting with Rickon and the measter, a practice that was now a part of her morning routine.  It had been difficult the first several days but he spent the first couple hours of every morning in the maester’s turret.

“Sansa, come see,” Rickon called to her excitedly, eager to show the practice he had been putting into his letters.

“Well done, my little wolf. You will have earned your sword soon, I should think.” The idea had occurred to her after seeing Rickon learn the use of swords with Jon. Rickon had asked for a sword like his, with a wolf’s head on the pommel. He had been promised one of his own once he learned to read and write. The boy had taken to the task with a vengeance after that.

He was learning herardly through a matching game that she and the maester had created together. The man had begun to teach him some maths as well. There were days where little progress would be made, he would disappear into the godswood to later be found high up in a tree. He still indulged in his wolf games at times too but even that had begun to grow less frequent.

“Where is Shaggy, Rickon?” She was pleased to see the wolf was not with him this morning.

“Playing in the godswood, waiting for me.” Rickon looked impatient to join his wolf.

Sansa was glad of that news, his direwolf no longer watched over Rickon in the way he used to. She recalled one day when the three wolves had fought each other in the main courtyard, she had been horrified to watch it. Sansa had appealed to Jon, wanting to stop the fight, conscious of the growing number of household members watching. He had refused, told her they all needed to be reminded that direwolves were not pets. He had frightened her in that moment, the savage expression he wore while watching the wolves. She had begged Robb next, asking to take Rickon away. He had also refused, saying their little brother was of an age as Bran when he first saw a man beheaded. Robb and Jon had been enjoying themselves, seemingly content to let the wolves battle it out for dominance until the fighting eventually stopped, all three animals wounded, their fur bloodied. There had been no more fits of temper from Shaggydog since.

That night, Sansa had been angry, determined to bar her chamber door to them both. But, Jon had come with a blue rose and some lemons and she had forgiven them. She would likely not see another lemon until the winter ended. Later, they had both taken her with a roughness she had not seen before. Neither man hurt her but their usual gentle treatment was missing in their lovemaking. Sansa had heard of men who got their blood up in battle, it was an unsettling reminder of the connection Robb and Jon had with their wolves.

Rickon came up to her, placing one of his hands in hers. “Don’t be angry, Sansa.”

“Angry? Why would I be angry, little wolf?” His comment confused her.

“Can I go play with Shaggy now? I want to go play.”

*

Jon would be back soon, accompanied by Jaime and his companions. She had just enough time for a short visit with Theon. Sansa made a point of visiting him often, each time it had become a little easier, she no longer experienced the horror of that first time. Jon asked after Theon on occasion, Robb never did. He had never spoken of her visits since that first day to her.

“Hello, Theon.” She stood in the doorway to greet him, waiting for an acknowledgement before entering his rooms.

“Sansa. Are you back again?” He was always surprised to see her, as if expecting every visit of hers to be the last one.

She smiled at him, hoping to set him at ease. “I am, I told you I would be. Theon, you did not ask if we would be taking your life today.” Theon asked that question, or a variant of it, every day. She dreaded it, knowing it was more a request than a question. The exact words changed from one day to the next but his meaning always remained the same. Theon would rather be dead.

He looked away from her, towards the floor before answering. “I have given up trying.” His expression grew vulnerable and his frown deepened even further after that admittance.

She said nothing for a moment, taking him in. After that first visit, Sansa had changed the menu served to him. With his missing teeth, she chose to feed him as one would a young child as they slowly ceased suckling at their mother’s breast. It was plain fare, often boiled root vegetables, mashed and mixed with butter and sweet cream, or fish, separated into small flakes. Theon would never regain the muscle he used to wear but flesh was slowly returning to his body, the gaunt features on his face and sunken ribs were gone now. His hair was still white and dry like straw but it had also begun to thicken and grow.

“I brought you a new book, it’s a history of the Iron Islands. I thought you might like that.” She handed him the leather bound pages which he accepted wordlessly.

He moved to sit on his bed. His room was another change she had made. She had the original bed taken out, replaced with a smaller feather mattress on the floor, a short wall between it and the rest of the room. She did not like it but preferred it to seeing him sleep on the floor like a dog as he once did. “How is Robb?”

It was not the first time Theon had asked her this question, the guilt of his betrayal hung heavy upon him. She recalled one visit where the man had fallen to the floor, tears suddenly streaming down his cheeks, crying out that he should have been with Robb at the wedding, should have died for him. Sansa had not known what to say to that. “He is well. He took Rickon on a tour of holdfasts recently. I believe he is planning a trip north with Jon soon, to visit some of their lords and the Night’s Watch. Did I tell you Jaime Lannister is coming today? Robb will be meeting with him as well.”

Theon looked directly at her for the first time. “The Kingslayer? No, Robb will kill him. Or Jon. Maybe they will put him in here with me. Jon would like that too.”

The vehemence of his response surprised her, she had never heard Theon speak with such force before. “No, they promised me. That won’t happen.”

“You’re wrong.”

*

Sansa stood in the courtyard, not far from the bridge, watching Jon ride in through the east gate. She had missed him desperately, Winterfell had been an emptier place without his presence. Sansa resisted the urge to run and throw herself into his arms as he strode towards her, conscious of the many pairs of eyes upon them. Sansa was beaming at him, not able to keep the smile off her face. As Jon drew closer, her grin faded as worry took her.

Jon’s eyes were always soft and gentle, always accompanied by a small smile, that gentle tilt of his lips that came to him every time his gaze would settle on her. She saw none of that now, his face more closely resembled a wrathful winter storm, the anger in him leaped at her, she could feel his temper. “Jon?” Sansa could hear the uncertainly in her voice.

He said nothing, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her towards him. Then his lips were upon hers, the kiss harsh and demanding. Jon eventually pulled away, leaving her lips bruised and swollen. “Your kingslayer is less than twenty minutes behind me, a dozen men with him. I want no grand gestures for him, no honors upon him. Put him and his men in the guest house and bring him to the council room. Where is Robb?”

Sansa struggled to understand his words, his anger worried at her. “Jon, what happened? Did Jaime do something?”

Jon moved his hands, firmly cupping her face and leaning in to speak quietly. “Oh, he spoke Sansa and I listened, just as you made us promise. Now, hear me wife, that man needs to watch himself or I will have his head on a spike, promises be damned. Where is Robb? I would speak to him.”

“He’s in his solar.”

Jon gave her another harsh kiss and left without a further word. For the first time, Sansa felt dread.

*

As Jon said, Jaime Lannister strode through the east gate, surrounded by a dozen or so men. Sansa could see his squire Peck and Hoster Blackwood with him. She searched, seeking out one more man, feeling relief when she saw him amongst their number. That was one vow Jaime had kept, Sansa took some relief from that.

Brienne stood next to her, keeping quiet as she watched the party arriving. Sansa did not miss that her eyes did not leave Jaime Lannister’s form, however.

“Brienne, watch Jaime for me, please. He will listen to you, help him to mind his words. As much as you can, I beg you.”

The woman turned towards her for a moment. “I will do my best, Sansa. But, even I can only do so much.”

Sansa said nothing else, only nodding to acknowledge her.. All the men dismounted and Jaime approached her, flanked by Peck and Hos. His hair was shorn, his curls no longer with him. He still had his beard, a few more flecks of grey standing out amongst the gold. His eyes were the same green she remembered, the same green as his sister. His eyes had a brightness to them and none of the cruelty she had found in Cersei. Jaime had on his golden hand as she had expected. However, there was one striking difference in the man before her. For the first time, Jaime did not have the white or even Lannister crimson on him. He was dressed in simple brown woolens, he could pass for a simple hedge knight if not for his golden hand and infamous Lannister looks. In all, Jaime Lannister was still a very beautiful man.

He came to a stop only a couple paces before her and bowed low. “Lady Stark, it is good to see you once again. Or, I believe it is your Grace now, correct?” She did not miss the quick wink he gave her.

“Ser Jaime, I welcome you to Winterfell once again.” She inclined her head, withholding the curtsy.

He turned his attention to the companion standing at her side. “My Lady Brienne, I have missed you.”  He took her hand, giving a brief kiss. Sansa did not miss the slight hitch of Brienne’s breath at his actions. She had not expected it.

“Ser Jaime, allow me to show your men their rooms and bring refreshments. The king and his hand wish to speak with you shortly.”

“Oh, I am quite certain they do, I expect this will prove quite enjoyable.” She did not miss the smirk he gave her.

Sansa’s feeling of dread grew.

A short time later, Sansa led the two of them to the council chambers located in the hall so they could await Jon and Robb. It took only a moment, seeing the both of them together, that the idea came to her.

“I must apologize, it looks as if we will need more refreshments. If you both will excuse me, I will fetch us some while we wait.” It was a lie and a transparent one at that. Sansa wished to give Jaime and Brienne a moment alone, a way to greet each other with no onlookers watching their movements.

She stood outside the council doors, waiting patiently. There was nothing else for her to do, the room had already been prepared with wine, ale, and water. There was bread, goat’s cheese, and fruit readied on a platter too. It was simple enough, she did not think Jon would find fault with her choices.

It was only a few minutes until Jon and Robb approached her, matching expressions of anger on their faces, their lips were pinched together, eyes drawn, hands pulled into a fist, both had their sword belts on. Whatever had passed between Jaime and Jon had been shared between the two of them, that much was apparent.

“What did Jaime say? Jon, what did he tell you?” If she knew, Sansa hoped to assuage their concerns before they returned to the room.

“You don’t need to know. Why are you waiting here?”

It was Robb who answered, Jon remained silent. But, she recognized the look he gave at Robb’s words, it was the look he wore in the training yard, when he was thinking of going in for a killing blow.

“I wished to give them a moment alone, Jaime and Brienne. They have been apart for a long while. If you tell me, tell me what he said, perhaps I could help, please?” She was pleading and she knew it.

“No. Open the door, Sansa.”

Sansa could only nod at Jon’s command, feeling lost. She did manage to open the door slowly, to give her friends fair warning, her wits had not completely escaped her. They walked in, Jon and Robb moved to sit at the head of the long table, not offering any form of greeting. Sansa looked to Brienne, not sure what she hoped for, but found no comfort there. She needed to take control, and quickly.

“Ser Jaime, it has been many years since you saw either of them last, may I once again introduce you to--”

He did not wait for her to finish, Jaime pulled her up in his arms and spun her around. Sansa could not completely resist his embrace, she was beyond pleased to see him once again. But, she knew the display was not for her, but the two men who sat watching at the end of the table. He was deliberately antagonizing them.

“Dispense with the formalities, Sansa. It’s good to see you again, little sister.”

He left her side, going to sit at the other end of the table, placing his feet on the chair next to him. “My father was sorely disappointed to hear you survived the Red Wedding. He had hoped the Freys would make an end of you for him.”

Robb’s face twisted in anger, he made no effort to hide it. “How fares your lord father? I had heard he took an arrow wound to the gut. Is he well?”

Sansa could feel the growing tension in the room, she needed to steer the conversation to other topics. “Jaime, I saw him in the courtyard. Does he know why he is here?”

He gave her a brief smirk before his lips went flat. She knew Jaime did not entirely approve of what she planned. “No, he does not. I thought you Starks might enjoy the honor.”

She turned her attention back to Jon and Robb, desperately hoping. “Ilyn Payne is in the guest house, he is one of the men who came north with Jaime. Payne is the man who used Ice to take our father’s head as I stood witness. He is yours, I give him to you both, to do as you wish.”

Their surprise was plain for all to see as well as their hunger. Sansa had no doubt there would be an execution later that day. She had no desire to be a witness to it. She opened her mouth to speak but was too late, Jaime was determined to anger them.

“So many vows they make us swear. Tell me both, how does it feel to be oathbreakers? It seems we are a growing order here within the seven kingdoms.”

Any remaining hopes Sansa had were now completely dashed. Jaime had stumbled on a topic that could only bring forth Jon’s wrath. She looked towards him, Jon was flexing the fingers of his right hand.

“Tell me Kingslayer, how fares swordplay without a right hand? Have you encountered some difficulty?”

Sansa felt numb, her limbs had grown heavy, no words escaped her even as she tried to speak. She was back in King’s Landing, a helpless girl again, unable to control the events around her. Jon had brought up his loss of a hand and Jaime would respond. Sansa felt utterly defeated.

“It’s a fitting punishment, really. I lost the hand I once used to make my sister wet, I am sure you understand my pain.”

Sansa sure she would sick up. Suddenly, Jon was up from his chair and had a dagger to Jaime’s throat. Brienne looked between her and Jaime, uncertain of what she should do. Robb only watched as if he was a child at a mummer’s show.

“Jon, please, put the dagger away. You promised me,” she begged of him.

“No, Sansa, I don’t think I will.” Instead, Jon squeezed the blade tighter against Jaime’s throat.

Sansa turned her attention to Robb. “Please, Robb, you promised.”

“We promised we’d listen and we did.” He sat back in his chair, refusing to make any further effort.

Sansa moved towards Jon and began to reach her hand out towards him before bringing it back. "Jon, please. You think you are hurting him, but you are not. The only one in pain is me, is that what you wish?”

After a moment, Jon pulled the dagger away from Jaime’s throat and took a step back.  She could only sigh in relief.

“Jaime, perhaps you should retire to your rooms. Brienne will accompany you. I will join you both later so we may talk further.” Her words came out stiff.

Jaime stood and whispered, “Forgive me, little sister,” into her ear before leaving the room, Brienne directly behind him.

Sansa still felt numb, unable to comprehend what had happened. She turned her attention back to the two men she had married. Jon had returned to his seat next to Robb. They both watched her expectantly, for what she did not know.

She stood there, a thousand different thoughts drifting through her mind, and with every passing second, she felt a growing rage come upon her. She had begged, she had explained, and they had promised. They had lied.

Until this moment, Sansa had only used her words to their benefit but no longer. Robb and Jon thought they knew what she could do, they were wrong. She had lived in King’s Landing, learned from Cersei Lannister and Petyr Baelish. She could wield her words as well as they could any blade. Sansa could wound and kill with her words.

She approached them both, looking down at them, two worms she wanted to crush with the heel of her boot. Sansa gave them no chance to speak, no chance to explain themselves or apologize. “Did you think to defend me? Did you think you were defending my honor? I would remind you both that Jaime Lannister is the one that saved my life, the one that made it possible for me to be here in Winterfell. Without him, Sansa Stark would forever be a dead woman.”

She paused, focusing her attention on Robb first. “And what did you do? Leave me in King’s Landing at the mercy of the man who killed our own father. You placed more value on that man’s life than you did mine. You broke your vows and risked your kingdom for some woman to fuck but left me there.”

“And you.” She turned her head slightly to look at Jon. “Did you think of me at all? Did you spare so much as a thought for the girl left alone with the people that killed your father? When I returned home, I wager your first thought was disappointment that I was not Arya. Instead, you two think to defend me from the man who actually saved me while you did nothing at all.”

She paused briefly, taking them both in. They stared at her, mouths hanging open, unable to summon any sort of response. She deliberated how far to go, how much she wished to break them. In the end, Sansa decided, she would leave them each other, it was everything else she would take.

“That man is in our home and under the protection of guest right. Tell me Robb, are you a Stark or are you a Frey? And you Jon, you cause pain and humiliation to your own wife in her own home, complete with witnesses to observe it all. I think perhaps you are the son of Lord Eddard Stark after all.”

Her words had wounded, each blow landing where she wished. Sansa prepared herself for the killing strike, ready to make an end to them.

“Before I leave, I must wish you both my most sincere congratulations. I am with child and you have given the north an heir.”

The killing blow hit its target, she was done. Sansa was the blood of Winterfell, a wolf, and her teeth were as sharp as any man's. She left the room, closing the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.


	19. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this came out ok, I had to step away from writing this a few times as I kept starting to cry.

He watched her close the door, listened as silence took over the room. He could hear their wolves breathing and the soft movement of their tails, the light rustle of Jon’s clothes as he squirmed in his seat. Robb sat there, unable to move. The quiet went on as he struggled to understand what happened, what he should do next.

“Robb?”

He said nothing, looking towards the door, half hoping she would come back.

“Robb?” His brother’s voice was louder this time, more anxious.

Somehow, he managed to turn his focus away from the door, to give up hope that she would come back and forgive them. “Jon.”

“Are you alright?” Jon’s voice was full of worry. “This is my fault, it was my temper that created this.” His brother seemed genuinely contrite. Robb didn’t know why, he’d been angry too.

“No, don’t do that. I made my own choices.” Robb had woken that morning, determined to do all Sansa had asked of him. He had lingered in her bed, kissed her and loved her, his promise had seemed an easy enough one to keep. Then he’d been reminded of who Jaime Lannister was and felt his own rage. Robb would have been content to watch his brother slice the man’s neck, to let his blood spray upon them. Now, Robb just felt tired. “Jon, I don’t know how to make this right, not this time.”

“I had no expectation you would.” Robb suddenly noticed his brother was standing next to him, felt Jon’s hand on his shoulder. “What do you wish to do about Payne?”

“Payne?” He had forgotten about the man. “Do as you will. I won't stop you.”

“Are you certain?”

Robb stood up, feeling a sudden urge toleave the room. He took in his brother, noticing the tightness to his brow, his lips pulled flat, and the stiff set of his shoulders. _Jon is as upset as I am. I don’t know how to help him either._ “Quite. Put him on a horse and point him south, send him to the wall, or stick him in motley and make him a fool. It matters little to me.”

Jon said nothing, giving him a short nod. He could see some of the tension leave his brother’s body though, that was good.

He began to walk towards the door, ready to leave.

“Robb, we haven’t been to the training yard since before I left…” Jon’s invitation was clear.

He stopped for a moment. “No, not today. I believe it’s time for me to pay Theon Greyjoy a visit.”

Jon leapt past him, moving to prevent his escape. “Is that wise?”

_An oathbreaker. Now those I love most think me a killer too._

He gave his brother a flat look, hoping to keep the frustration he felt hidden away. “I only plan to talk to the man, no more. Let me pass, Jon.”

His brother said nothing else, moving away from the door, allowing him to leave, a sorely needed escape.

Robb felt as if he was walking blind through a snow storm, memory and random chance leading him to the broken tower and Theon’s rooms. He noticed neither the tower nor Theon’s chamber were barred, no guard stood on duty. By all accounts, the man never left the space, had yet to venture out.

He stood quietly in the entryway for a moment, taking in the man he had once almost considered a brother. Theon still looked like an aged, withered creature but his hair had thickened some and a bit of flesh now clung to his body. The rags he used to insist on wearing were gone too, the stink of shit and piss leaving with them. Robb suspected that was all Sansa’s doing. Theon sat on the floor next to a feather mattress, slowly moving the pages of a book in his hands.

“What book do you have?” He asked while slowly entering the wretched room.

Theon looked up at him, his eyes grew large and his mouth hung open, the fear visible to any lackwit. He threw the book on the floor and moved away, crawling on his hands and knees. “Robb..are you here to kill me?”

 _The turncloak thinks me a killer too._ “Gods be good, no, I’m not here to kill you, no one is. Your sister left you here as a hostage, don’t you remember that?”

“Asha, yes, I remember. I know her.” The man sat on his mattress, hands on his knees, focusing on the floor beneath him.

Robb looked around the room, it was mostly barren.  Nothing but a bed on the floor and a couple tables. He walked towards one, saw several handkerchiefs with Theon’s initials on it along with a fur cloak, folded up and draped across the edge. He was certain they were both Sansa’s work.  

“I understand Sansa sees you on the regular, she’s determined to help you. She seems to think you are here with us for a reason. What do you think, Theon?” Robb was not sure why he asked or what answer he expected.

“I’m to be a ghost, that’s what I am.” Robb had not expected that.

“The ghost of Winterfell, is that it? Wouldn’t you rather be Theon Greyjoy?” _Theon Turncloak. Theon the Hostage. Theon who murdered children. Theon who wanted to be a Stark. And now a ghost._

He reacted to that, standing up for the first time since Robb saw him. “Sansa say I am, says I need to figure out what that means.”

“And what does it mean?” Robb was genuinely curious, he had never given much thought to it before. Theon had been another member of their household growing up, another companion to play and practice sparring with. They used to run through the wolfswood, making games with their wooden swords. Jon would even join them at times. It had never occurred to him that Theon might question himself or who he was. Robb never had, at least not until he met Reek.

Theon gave no answer, merely stood there, seemingly unsure.

Robb suspected he knew why. “You won’t be punished, Theon. This isn’t a trick. I merely seek to understand.”

“Once I was a hero, I saved Jeyne Poole. She still died though.” There was no inflection in the man’s voice, just a listless recitation of facts.

He was beginning to understand Sansa’s state that first day, the room was oppressive. Being with Theon felt like talking to a dead man in a half-living body. “If Sansa says you need to figure out what it means to be Theon Greyjoy, then you should do so. She’s always right.” He thought for a moment on what had transpired just a short while ago. “At least she always was, until today that is.”

“You killed him then, the kingslayer? Or did Jon do it? He would enjoy that, he wanted to kill me.”

***

She stood on the other side of the door for a moment, not yet ready to face down Jaime. Sansa felt the anger leave her body only to be replaced with a slowly spreading ache. She felt used up, an old crone somehow trapped in the maiden's body. She left them there, the two men she loved and had destroyed. A part of her was tempted to return to them, hold them against her and provide comfort, but she squashed that instinct away before it could take root.

Sansa let herself wander, her legs seemingly moving on their own, without command or direction from her. She was by herself, no Rickon or measter, no husband, no Pod or Brienne. For once, even the wolves did not join her. She was glad of it, Sansa did not want another’s presence, she wanted solitude. Eventually, she stopped, it was the crypts, the place her family buried their old Kings of Winter. She had avoided the place since returning, it had frightened her as a child. She remembered Jon once covering himself in flour in an attempt to scare her down in the crypts. She had run away, certain Starks of long ago had returned to haunt her. Later, Jon found her and wiped the flour away. He'd kissed her cheek and called her sweet, little Sansa. But, that was a different Sansa he had frightened, one whose greatest fear was a simple child’s trick.

She entered, knowing what pulled at her. He was easy enough to find, his statue was the same face she remembered from her childhood. Her father looked so much like Jon, the same long, solemn face and eyes. Her father had always given her warmth with his eyes. She knew some thought Eddard Stark had cold eyes to match his frozen heart but they were wrong. More thought him a fool for his honor, they were wrong about that too. His children stood together in Winterfell, while the other Houses crumbled around them, Lannister, Baratheon, Baelish, Frey, Bolton, and more. Ned Stark had been the one to win their war.

Sansa walked up to her father’s statue to stroke the cold stone of his cheeks, felt the smoothness against the tips of her fingers. Long ago, when she was a girl younger than even Rickon, Sansa would run into his arms every time he left to visit a nearby holdfast or travel on other business as warden of the north. He would pick her up so she could kiss that same cheek and he would tell her how much she looked like her mother, that she would grow to be as great a lady as the Lady Catelyn.

She reached down to take his right hand in hers, it  was the hand he would have used to kill Lady with. A distance had been put between them after that day on the Trident, one neither of them had ever bridged. They had spoken little from then on, he was busy serving King Robert and she spent her days on silly girl’s dreams. Sansa had been angry with her father on the day of his arrest, he was taking away everything she had wanted. Her anger at him had been repaid when Joffrey gave her his head. The gods had truly punished her then.

Sansa knelt before him, a supplicant at prayer, to listen in case the gods should speak but the crypts were quiet. The dead had no messages for her. Sansa could feel the pull of two men above her as they walked the grounds of Winterfell. One cried for forgiveness, both begged her to repair that which she had broken. Sansa left her father to his rest, the living had greater need of her. It was time to talk to Jaime.

Both of their voices were raised, she had heard her own name once as well. Sansa knocked, entering at the bid of a muffled acknowledgment. Jaime sat at a table, seemingly at ease. He was eating an apple, slices of hard, yellow cheese on a small plate next to him. It was all a display. Brienne stood behind him, stiff, the very image of a knight standing over her charge.

"Oh, it’s you. This one here,” He paused to nod his head in Brienne’s direction, “has just given me a rather well done tongue lashing. Could I perhaps beseech you for another?”

She could not resist, Sansa laughed, her first of the day. “I assure you, it was well deserved. Are you quite done or should I expect another repeat of your earlier performance?”

“I’d swear you an oath but I seem to break them with rather alarming frequency.” He took another bite of apple, confirming her suspicion. _It is an act, he is still a Lannister after all._

“He is done, Sansa. I swear it to you, on my honor.” _Well done._ Brienne had chosen her words carefully. She gave her friend a smile of acknowledgement.

“Jaime, did you bring it? Is it here?” Sansa had been waiting for this, almost since the moment the two of them found her in the Vale.

“Of course I did. It’s in that chest over there.” He pointed to a small, wooden box on the floor. “You can take it from here, I have no need for the damned thing. May I ask which one will be the recipient of such a generous gift?”

“House Stark, you should know that.” Sansa spoke true, she would not share more, not even with Jaime.

He only smirked in response, catching her evasive response before his face grew serious. “Do you have news?” It was the question she had been expecting, his Lannister pride was a poor mask, she could read the fear hiding underneath.

She swallowed, moving to sit next to him at the table. “Brienne, do you wish to join us?” _He will need your love soon._ Sansa looked at her friend, hoping to convey what she could not speak aloud. “I have written to Ellaria, more than once. I’m sorry, Jaime, I wish there was good news I could share with you. Here.” Sansa reached into a hidden pocket to pull out a sealed letter, handing it over. “It’s from Myrcella, it is her handwriting, I recognize it from my time in King’s Landing. The seal is still on it, I do not know the contents. If you wish to reply, I will see that it gets to her.” They had spoken on this before parting at the neck. She hoped to somehow arrange a reunion between the two of them but it was not to be. Sansa was in no position to travel to Dorne in person. If Jaime attempted it, his death would be the inevitable result.

He took the letter from her, stroking the sealed wax with his good hand, quiet for a moment. The usual confidence was gone, he looked older than his years, his eyes had faded to a dull glow. “It is more than I hoped.”

“Jaime.” Brienne reached out, covering his hand with both of hers.

“Did you find Gendry, by any chance? I did not see him amongst your party.” It was not idle curiosity that drove her question, she hoped to turn the topic to less painful subjects.

“No, he was gone when I found the Brotherhood again. He left, with a girl.”

“A girl? Do you know who?” Sansa had hoped Gendry could be persuaded to come to Winterfell. He had skills they could use and he had known Arya. She had secretly hoped the man could draw their sister back home but it was not to be.

“Yes, a girl, surely you’re familiar with them? They’re typically noted for wearing dresses, long hair, and breasts. And no, I have no name. They slipped away in the night.” The light was back in his eyes, Sansa could see that much. Even here, just the three of them, Jaime did not wish to be seen as vulnerable.

She ignored him. “Jaime, how is Tommen? You are not in white.” She had been certain the boy would be here with him.

He flashed her a cocky grin before answering, “You can’t have a kingsguard without a king. Tommen is with me, his hair is black and he’s a bit less plump than you remember him. Peck has him.” His face grew serious. “I had to make a choice, I could protect the king or I could protect my son. Cersei and I had a difference of opinion on that particular matter. So, I stole him out of the city. I expect she’s less than pleased over it.”

“I’m proud of you, Jaime,” Brienne quietly whispered to him.

Sansa shared the sentiment, she had been right. Brienne had as well, they were right to trust in his honor.

“Would you like him to meet Rickon? They are close enough in age, perhaps they would become friends. A private dinner tonight, just us. We’ll introduce them.” Rickon needed a companion his age, she had considered looking for a boy to foster. Sansa hoped this meant Jaime would be staying in the north, she had offered him sanctuary once before.

The man laughed. “Careful now, little sister. You’ll make a wolf of him, utterly ruin the poor child.”

She wrinkled her nose, Sansa hated that name. “I wish you would stop calling me that.”

“You married my little brother once, if you’ll recall. Could I ask if you’re hiding him up here in the north too? You seem to be collecting husbands. I have been wanting to speak with him.”

Sansa chose not to respond, it would do her no good. “Jaime, you know who they are. We will be trying again tomorrow, I expect you to behave.”

“Oh, I will, on my honor. I suppose I’ll need to bring my horse.”

“I have missed you, we all have.” Sansa meant it. He was coarse, rude, direct when he should not be, and dismissive at times. She appreciated every bit of it. “Now, will you tell me of everything happening in the Riverlands? All that you know of since I came back home?”

As they spoke, it was everything she could have hoped for, she would have news for Jon and Robb soon. The rest of the day also proved to be a pleasure, as she managed to push worry over the two of them away. The feeling of them pulling at her was still there but Sansa was content enough to ignore it. They ate a quiet dinner together in Jaime’s room, conversation was just as it once was as they traveled north together. Rickon and Tommen took to each other, becoming fast friends over a pair of wooden swords.

Then, Jaime shared his final piece of news, the one he had been avoiding. It was the same as earlier, Sansa felt her joy turn to ashes.

Finally, the day ended, Sansa returned to her rooms, the small wooden chest in her arms. She was not sure what to do next, her plans had all crumbled to dust around her. A weariness had settled into her bones and the feeling of being pulled to Jon and Robb had only grown sharper. Her bed would be a lonely one tonight.

Then, she opened her chamber door to find Jon sitting on that very same bed.

“Good, you’re here. I need to speak with you.”

The pulling went away the moment he spoke.


	20. Things Returned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This did not go quite as expected but it's what came out so I went with it.

Sansa stood still for a moment, not speaking, it was obvious she had not expected him. Jon wasn’t sure whether that should please or anger him, likely both. He watched her set a chest or some such on her dressing table before walking towards him, stopping a couple paces before the bed.

“My lord husband, are you well?” Her voice was stiff, formal. She was donning that damned courtesy armor of hers.

Jon took Sansa in, slowly looking her over. He would not pretend to have her skill at understanding people but he had learned from her. Jon had made a study of his wife, had gotten quite good at reading her. Tonight, he saw a Sansa that was just as upset as he and Robb were. It was subtle, she hid her feelings well, but he had seen her as she was now only twice before. The first was during the dinner when she returned to Winterfell. The second was the night she told them of her dreams.

_Treacherous waters and I know little of seafaring…._

He was not quite sure how to answer her. It was Robb that had set the conversation right the first time. It had been Robb again who had fixed the break in their relationship, had pushed him to open up. His brother was in no position to do so again and Jon did not know what to do. _You know nothing, Jon Snow._

He knew enough to tell her the truth. “No, Sansa, I am not well. Neither is Robb and neither are you.”

Her eyes grew big but she said nothing. It made no matter, his suspicion had been proven correct. Jon was not certain what to say next. He’d sooner settle differences in the training yard or issue an order and be done with it, he could not do either of those with Sansa.

Theon had spoken of jumping off the walls of Winterfell to save a girl, how he had flown. Jon thought for a moment and then he leapt. “Can I share something with you? Only Robb knows, I wish for you to know as well.” He waited for the slight nod of her head before continuing. “Payne, I am not asking you to decide anything, I have no desire to dictate your actions. But, I’m more like him than you think. After I came back, it was easier for me to kill, I started to enjoy it. You know men are taught to kill from a young age, I have gotten very good at it.

“Twice, Robb stopped me from killing when I should not have. Once with that maester we had when you first arrived. The second was Theon, he wished us to make an end of him. It was easy enough, I had a dagger out and was mere seconds from doing so when Robb put his hand on my shoulder. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

“I once knew a man who spoke as you did. I pray he found some measure of peace.” She had tears in her eyes.

“There’s more. You know that Robb and I go hunting with the wolves at night sometimes. I resisted what I was for a long time, there were free folk and a ranger who saw it in me but I denied it. It was Robb that got me to accept it, got me to start hunting with him. It helps, Sansa. More than I can explain. Before you, it’s always been a secret between just the two of us. You deserve to know as well, I wish I had told you this earlier.”

Jon waited, uncertain of her response, hoping he had not made an utter bollocks of the whole thing.

“I believe Jon, that is the most you have ever spoken to me at once, did you know that?” She stepped closer to the bed, standing to the side.

He snorted “Northmen have never been ones for poetry, Sansa.” He paused, sighing to himself “I can be closed to others, I know that. Will you trust that I will try to do better in the future?”

Sansa reached her hand out, gently stroking his own and squeezing it before pulling away. “Jon, would you give me that trust tonight? Would you tell me what Jaime said to you?”

Waves of shame and anger washed over him. He wished to never speak of it but Sansa offered him a way forward and Jon was not so stupid that he would not seize it. “I had hoped to never tell you, I should never have told Robb. He made me ashamed, Sansa. It was not any one thing. He spoke of what happened to me, how Stark men seem to get themselves killed. I forget sometimes how the stories about me have spread. Robb and I, he questioned our ability to lead and rule. He talked about my mother, Sansa, and what I brought to yours. He...he spoke of you.” Jon drew silent, he did not know how to continue.

“Then I spoke as I did. Jon…” She said nothing else, pulling herself on to the bed so they sat facing each other.

“Please don’t cry, I couldn’t bear it.” Jon felt raw enough as it was, he was not ready to deal with her tears quite yet.

She quietly laughed at him before wiping her eyes. “I won’t. Will you let me tell you about Jaime? Perhaps I could explain or help you understand, at least a little. Did you see what he was wearing, the brown?”

Sansa reached out, taking one of his hands in her own. Jon took hold, kissing her palm briefly before answering. “The woolens? I suppose you’ll tell me there is some great lesson there.”

“In all the time I have seen Jaime Lannister, he has always worn either the colors of his House or the white of the Kingsguard. He has lost both. I count the man friend, yes, but I have not forgotten what or who he is. He was wrong, he should not have spoken as he did but Jaime attacks. Here in the north, he has no name, no sword hand, no army, no family protection. It is you and Robb that have all the power and he knows it. He will not do so again, I hope this time you give me the trust that it will be so.” She said nothing else, obviously waiting for his answer.

It hurt some, hearing her speak as she did, even as it helped explain her earlier anger. “I have always trusted you, Sansa, believe me. I forgot that, for a short while.” Jon wanted to cease further talking but he could not yet do so. There was more he needed to say to her. “Sansa, about Robb, I know you are angry, I ask that you be angry with me, not with him. He planned to keep his word to you but I deliberately told him what Jaime said about me, I wanted him to feel the same rage I did. The way he acted, the reason he refused to explain, was out of love for me. Be angry with me, not him, please.” Jon felt exposed, as if he had his neck out, waiting for the headsman’s blade. _Please don’t be angry, Sansa, please._

“Jon, I am not angry, not anymore, it left me almost from the moment I shut the door.” She paused, giving a quiet laugh that came out almost a whisper. “Forgive me, it looks as if I will cry after all. Can we...can we just tell each other how sorry we are, for now at least? Robb, we will talk to him together soon. Can we do that?”

He still wanted to talk of that babe Sansa carried but it would wait, he wanted Robb there too. Instead, he said nothing, placing his hand on her cheek to kiss her. It was a lover’s kiss but lacked the urgency he was feeling. Jon had woken that morning, imagining himself spending the night once again back in her bed. He had not pictured them dressed or her tears. “Yes, we can do that.”

“I need to take this dress off. It feels...heavy. Stay here.” Sansa got off the bed and walked towards her dressing table.

Jon watched her for a moment as she took out the hair comb she wore and took off a necklace before leaving for her dressing room and quickly returning. He felt a momentary surprise when he saw what she carried with her. “Is that the night rail you wore on our wedding night?”

“Yes. I don’t believe I will ever wear this dress again, maybe someday perhaps. ”

He knew that was important, Sansa was always deliberate in her clothes, he just didn’t know why. He got off the bed to walk towards her. “Can I help you?”

She gave the tiniest jump, he had surprised her. “How do you do that? You move so quietly.”

“Practice, I suppose. You did not answer my question.”

Sansa turned her back to him, pulling her hair over one shoulder. “My dress, I can not take it off by myself.”

He could see the heavy breaths leave her body, she felt the impact as much as he did. Jon  began to slowly untie the laces on the back her dress, pulling it apart with his hands. They both remained quiet as he worked, at least until he let out a deep moan at what he saw. She wore nothing underneath, her skin was bare and exposed to him. He reached in with his hand, stroking along her back, down towards her hip, before moving towards her front. “Sansa, if I continue, you know what will happen.”

“Then let it happen.”

Jon took her in, feeling desire steadily grow in him, a madness taking over. He had not been away even a sennight yet Jon felt a man gone. Once, he had attempted to get her to say the word cock, Sansa had looked upon him as if he had suddenly turned into a three-headed dragon. Even so, he knew she loved the way he spoke to her when they were abed together, he would feel the flood of wet between her legs and suffer the pain of scratches on his back the next day. Jon thought to bring forth the same again.

Jon stepped toward her, lightly pulling at her waist so her back almost rested on his chest. He placed a light kiss on her neck where her hair ended and another one just below that. “I took myself in hand when I woke this morning, imagining all that I wanted to do with you when I returned back home to Winterfell. Shall I tell you?” He gave a couple more light kisses along her back.

“Jon,” she sighed.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” Another sigh.

“I imagined slowly removing your dress, kissing you here,” he paused to kiss one shoulder, “and here.” He pressed his lips to the other shoulder and then finished the laces before pulling the dress off and letting it fall.  “After, I slowly kissed your lips and your chin before moving lower.” Jon gently turned her around so they faced each other and, hands on her waist, leaned in to kiss just as he said before slowly kissing down her chest until he reached the top of her lovely teats. “Then I took both of your pretty, pink nipples into my mouth, sucking one and then the other.” Once again, Jon did just as he told her.

Jon paused, gazing at her, naked but for stockings and small clothes. They had both caused each other pain today, he wanted to make it better. Jon wanted to love her, show her with his body how sorry he was for all that had happened. He raked his hands through her hair, moving one to cup her face and leaned in to kiss her once more. Jon slid his tongue along her bottom lip, pleading for entrance. Sansa gave way and their lips and tongues blended together, he would swear she tasted of lemons.

After a moment, she pulled away and whispered, “Jon?” Her voice was deeper than usual. He could feel her hands stroking up his chest so she could place her arms around his neck.

“My sweet girl,” he answered, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her jaw.

“Will you...will you tell me the rest?”

Jon whispered into her ear, “I laid you on the bed and slowly kissed my way down here,” he paused to place his hand on her cunt before finishing, “where I feasted upon you and listened to your screams. “ Jon pulled one of her hands and placed it on his breeches so she could feel his cock, hard and straining against the fabric. “Then, I imagined fucking you and hearing all those pretty noises of yours. I spilled my seed into my hand as I pictured you coming on my cock.” He gave a final kiss next to her ear.

Sansa gave a deep swallow. Her cheeks and throat were closer to a deep red than her usual pink. “Jon...do that...I want you...to do that.” She could barely speak.

Jon smiled at her. “I would have begged on my knees for you to let me.” He untied her small clothes and tossed them away. “Get on the bed.”  

He followed behind, quickly removing his own clothes as he did. Jon climbed on just after her and immediately kissed her again, gently pushing her to lay down. After a moment, he did just as he told her, pressing his lips down her neck and between the valley between her teats, down her belly until he reached the lovely, red curls of her cunt.

Jon stopped for a moment, encircling one of her thighs with his arm, past experience showing the need, Sansa writhed under him when Jon licked at her. “I have wished for this moment since I left Winterfell only two days before. I want to hear you scream for me, Sansa.” He said nothing else, taking in the unique, musky scent of her before bending down to slowly lick up her cunt. He sucked at her bud for a moment and then gently slid two fingers in her, moving them in rhythm with his tongue. Sansa curled her fingers into his hair, pulling with more and more urgency, it only encouraged him. She writhed and bucked her hips against him, he could hear her call out his name, louder and louder with every lick. Jon felt a bid of pride, listening to her scream as she did. Her wetness grew and he could feel her cunt clenching against his fingers. Jon slowed his efforts as she began to relax against him.

He let go of her thigh and moved up her body, laying between her legs.

“I screamed for you.” Sansa gave him a dazed smile.

“You did, sweet girl.” He said nothing else, reaching down to guide his cock into her before slowly beginning to thrust. He looked down at Sansa, at the woman he loved as an idea began to form. He wanted more screams, Jon meant to get them. “I love watching Robb fuck you, the way your lovely teats move when he does. I love listening to you scream out his name, kissing you when he’s moving on top. Do you like it Sansa, do you like it when I watch?”

That did it, Jon heard loud chants of his name as he thrust into her, could feel her nails on his back as the scratches began to form. Jon increased his pace, almost pounding her into the mattress. _I do know some things._

“Play with your nipples, Sansa, I want to see you.”

Her eyes grew big but she did as he asked. Jon knew he would not last much longer but could tell she was close as well, Sansa was screaming for him again. Her cunt was tightening against him, Jon gave a couple more frenzied thrusts and stilled, spilling into her.

He somehow managed to keep from completely collapsing on top of her, using his arms to bear some of his weight.

“I love you, Jon.”

He looked down at her. “I love you too, Sansa. More than I could have thought possible.”

“Can we talk to Robb? I do not think I could wait until morning.”

That amused him. Jon moved to lay next to her, pulling Sansa into his arms. “Can you give me a moment? A man needs a bit of time for recovery.”

***

Sansa finished tying the robe over her night rail before moving to her dressing table. She was certain her hair looked a fright. Sansa combed it out, until the strands lay smooth down her back, as she knew Robb liked it. Briefly, images of her mother brushing her hair at night came to her but Sansa pushed that away, the grief hit more deeply.

She both dreaded and wanted the conversation she knew was coming. Jon had taken much of the day’s pain away, had made her feel loved. But, there was more to come. More apologies, likely more tears on her part.

“Why are you wearing that?”

Sansa turned her focus to Jon and chuckled. “The gown? I wore it our first night, I chose it for Robb.”

“And what would you have chosen for me?”

She thought for a moment, feeling suddenly shy. “The weirwood dress, you seemed to like that one well enough.”

He grinned at her. “Good answer.”

Jon must have sensed the tension within her as he said nothing else, moving close and pulling her into his arms. Sansa burrowed into his chest, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. She was tired, this day had taken more than she would have thought possible and was not yet done.

“Will you stay with me in the morning? You always wake so early, will you stay?”

“I won’t leave your bed until you tell me too. I’ll enjoy keeping that particular promise.” He kissed her cheek before pulling away. “Shall we go?”

Sansa picked up the wooden chest, it felt heavy and awkward in her arms. She was ready to be done with it. “I’m ready.” _Liar._

All too soon, Jon was opening the door to Robb’s solar, following behind as she walked through. He sat at the fire, ignoring them both. Sansa stood in the entry way, unsure of what to do.

“Jon, who is the boy in with Rickon? I haven’t seen him before.”

She saw Jon look at her, confused. Sansa answered for him, “You met him once before, he looked different then. You knew him as Tommen Baratheon, I suppose it is Hill or Waters now though, I have not asked Jaime what the little boy knows yet.”

Robb turned in his chair, surprised at her presence. “Are there any other Lannisters here in Winterfell I should be aware of?”

Sansa walked towards him, thinking on how best to explain Tommen’s presence, she only had suspicions. Jon sat nearby, a cup of ale in his hands, content to listen. “I wrote to Dorne, foolishly hoping Myrcella could be reached but she is lost. I doubt she will ever leave there again. Tommen is…” She struggled for a moment, picking her words carefully. “He is a sweet boy, gentle and kind-hearted. Believe me, he suffered in King’s Landing in his own way, I saw it with my own eyes. Kinship was no protection against Joffrey’s cruelties. Rickon took to him right away and they wished to sleep together, it seemed a good idea. I think they will be good friends.” _Maybe even brothers, someday._

Robb kept quiet, not speaking. Sansa realized he was not ignoring her, Robb was in pain. She needed to address that before they could speak. Sansa stood before him, that made her feel a subject. The settee was too far away so she settled for kneeling next to him, placing the chest and her arms in his lap.

“I have something for you. Open it, please.” Sansa pulled away, giving him needed space.

“It’s a sword, Sansa. Valyrian steel, looks like. The cats are ugly.”

She smiled, he didn’t see it. “Look again.” The last time Sansa saw the sword it had been called Widow’s Wail and been used to cut an old book in two. Robb was a better swordsman than Joffrey would ever have been, he would use it as it was meant to be. “It’s Ice, Robb, father’s sword. I thought you could replace the pommel on it, something a bit more fitting. But, it is Ice, I swear it to you.”

He looked taken aback, completely at a loss for words, his mouth hung open but he could not speak.

“Fucking Seven Hells, Sansa.”

Robb laughed, finding his voice. “Yes, that sounds right. How did you get this? I had thought it was lost forever.”

“It was Jaime Lannister who returned it to us. He will not repeat today’s behavior, I swear it to you, Robb.” Sansa had felt proud of Brienne earlier, she had spoken of honor and shamed Jaime by doing so.

Robb stood, picking up the sword, tossing the chest aside. Sansa listened as the two men held it and spoke for awhile. She had managed to repair at least some of the damage they had inflicted upon each other, Sansa could feel some joy in that.

“Robb, there is more. Jaime returned one more thing to us.” Sansa’s stomach twisted as she thought on all she had been told that day. He had called her the hanging woman, Brienne named her Lady Stoneheart. “He has returned our mother’s bones to us, Robb. I know it is not done, but I thought we could reunite her and father somehow, in the crypts together.”

They both sat back down, returning their focus to her. Robb placed the sword away and then put his arms out, palms facing upwards, a request to her. Sansa responded, holding his hands in her own.

“Did he tell you anything?”

 _He called her Mother Merciless too. Brienne told me the lady she once knew was gone._ “Yes, it seems she was killed by a dagger to the heart. He said it would have been quick, she would have felt little pain.” There could be comfort in lies sometimes, this is all Sansa would ever tell him.

He stroked her wrists with his thumb for a moment. “Rickon said she had a hole in her heart, I suppose this explains it. I think you are right, we will reunite them. You did not see it, Sansa. She grieved terribly for him, it was as if our mother was half-dead from the day we learned what happened.”

“Earlier, Jon and I, we told each we were sorry, for now at least.”

“I know, I could hear you both.”

Jon snickered.

Sansa reddened in embarrassment, before deciding to ignore him and continue, “I thought we could do the same, let’s tell each other how sorry we are for now. Let the rest wait.”

Robb untied her robe, pulling it apart to lay his hands on her belly. “What about this? Are you certain?”

Sansa stroked his beard before answering. “Quite certain, I have not bled since before our wedding night. We can start our morning talking of it, I will answer every question you have. For now, let’s go to bed and sleep. You spoke of using me as a pillow.”

Robb stood and grinned at her for the first time since that morning. "Alright, we can do that.” He nodded towards Jon before saying with a laugh, “He can take your belly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Jon/Sansa moment was inspired by the dress scene in season one of Poldark. If you have seen it, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, stop what you are doing and go watch it now.


	21. Repairs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy one day late birthday, Jeanettesc, I give you Robbsa.

“Do you think she will wake soon?”

Robb chuckled at his brother’s words, Sansa had no love for the early morning as they did. He reached out, gently stroking the locks of her hair touching his shoulder. She lay between them, her head resting on his chest and her legs covering Jon, even in sleep Sansa had trapped them with her.

“She told me yesterday our early hours were indecent. You were the one that promised her, best prepare yourself for a wait.” Robb was content to stay abed with them both, he could breath in the scent of her, and it gave him an excuse to avoid the ever growing pile of correspondence that lay on his desk.

He brought their conversation back around. “Do you believe her, can we trust Lannister? I admit to misliking her familiarity with him.”

His brother gave a low laugh before speaking softly, “In truth, I’d rather take a sword to his cock. No, I don’t think we can trust him but I think we need to trust her. She’s decided we’re meeting with him again today. I can control my temper if you can control yours.”

Lannister had brought his mother’s bones back to Winterfell, Robb could find it in himself to thank the man for that much at least. “The training yard afterwards? I believe it would be good for us both.”

Jon’s face lit up. Likely, it was his rejection of the offer yesterday that led his brother to seek Sansa out. “I’ll enjoy knocking you to the ground, the king in the north needs a bit of humiliation now and then.

He snorted. “You can try, Snow.” He grew serious then. “Afterwards, we need to talk over several items, I have a stack of letters on my desk and no response available for most of them.”

“I can’t decide which is more dull, sword playing or taxes.”

Robb looked at the woman resting on his chest, Tully blue eyes matching his own stared back up at him.

“The lady wakes,” said Jon in a low rumble.

She gave them both a lazy smile, eyes half-lidded, murmuring so quietly he almost couldn’t hear, “Treasure box.”

He lightly pulled her hair,  tucking some behind her ear. “Put something else in that treasure box, you promised to tell us more about that babe you said is growing in you.”

Sansa giggled, looking between them both. “What do you wish to know?”

“How long-”

“When will-”

“They come in their own time, I am two moons gone, or near enough to make no matter. In seven more, I hope to be holding a squalling babe in my arms.” Sansa’s words were plain but the joy he could see on her said more than enough. It had always been her dream, to be a wife and mother, to be loved. Queenship and ruling was her responsibility but she had no great love for it.

“A child. At the wall, I often reminded myself I would never have a child of my own. A part of me worries this is a dream.” Jon looked a bit dazed as he spoke.

Sansa moved, turning to lay on her stomach between them, holding her head in her hands. “No dream, I can promise you that much.”

Robb shared a glance with his brother, they would likely not be there when the child was born. He pushed that thought to the side, it would be unkind to remind Sansa now. “You’ll be an amazing mother, Sansa. I could almost envy the babe.”  

“I have told no one so far, Brienne and my maid are aware but they will remain silent, I promise. You both should make the announcement soon, news of an heir will be welcomed I should think.” Sansa was positively beaming, her excitement growing as she spoke. “I’ll need to alter my dresses as well.”

Jon looked confused. “To hide it?”

She reached up, kissing his cheek. “No, the opposite. I wish to be seen.” Changing the subject, Sansa continued on, “Do you both realize this is the first morning since our wedding that I have woken to you both still in my bed? It’s positively indecent how early you both wake.”

His brother snickered before succumbing to laughter.

“What did I say?” She asked, confused.

“Nothing at all, sweet girl. Merely a reminder of how much I enjoyed keeping my word to you.” Jon sat up in bed, putting both hands on her face to give her a gentle kiss. “I’ll see to Rickon this morning, you both can prepare for the day at your leisure.”

He climbed from their bed and began pulling his breeches on. “Sansa, tonight, will you wear that gown of yours?”

She chewed her bottom lip, growing shy, before nodding her head and smiling.

Partially dressed, Jon approached them, giving her a final kiss, saying, “Good. I believe you know what I wish to do tonight.” Sansa’s eyes grew large and a flush overtook her.

A quick nod to Robb and he left the room.

He looked at Sansa, sitting up in the bed, trying and failing to keep an embarrassed grin from showing.

“What does Jon wish to do tonight?”

“He...he wants to watch,” she whispered.

Robb considered on what exactly that meant. “He wants to watch us fuck? Well, I’ll do my best to put on a good show.”

“Robb!”

“My wife looks scandalized. Is it my use of the word fuck or my desire to provide a show that shocks you?” He asked.

“You are not amusing, husband.”

“Oh, I rather think I am.” He was quite enjoying seeing her reaction. Robb also suspected she was not nearly as upset as she would have him believe. “Sansa, you do realize Jon left us alone deliberately, yes? He wished us to talk.”

Her only response was the slightest nod of her head. Robb was not sure what to say. After the disaster of a meeting, he had drifted through the day as if it were a misty haze, the thickness of fog had not begun to dissipate until she had once again appeared before him.

Robb gazed up at Sansa. He loved her desperately but for the first time, did not have the words, did not know how to repair what they had broken. “Sansa...I….” He drew breath, trying again. “Yesterday…”

“Jon told me, what he said, what happened.”

“Did he now?” Jaime Lannister had forced Robb to confront truths he would rather ignore. Sansa had the right of it, he and Jon ruled together as one, their duty to the north blended between them with a degree of ease that Robb sometimes forgot he was the king. Even so, any power Jon or Sansa had flowed through him because he granted it to them. It was an uncomfortable fact, one he had been easily able to ignore, at least until Jaime Lannister came back to Winterfell. Robb had grown up secure in the knowledge that Winterfell and the north would all be his, he would rule and his word would be law. Jon had become a man knowing he was the heir to nothing and entitled to even less. Robb had forgotten because it was easy to do so, Jon and Sansa lived with this truth every day.

Robb hated Jaime Lannister and no words, no tears, no pleading, no promises made to Sansa would change that. The man had thrown Bran from a window, helped place a monster on the Iron Throne, launched an attack on their mother’s childhood home, and committed a treason that led to their father’s death. Sansa only saw the man who helped bring her home. It had been Jaime Lannister who rescued her while Robb left her to her fate. He hated the man for that as well.

“Will you let me explain why Jaime behaved as he did?” Sansa was still sitting up, facing him with her legs crossed. She had pushed the furs away and sat clad in only a transparent gown, so thin he could see the pink tips of her nipplles. She seemed to think he only needed to understand the man a bit more. If that was so, Robb would be disappointing her shortly.

“I know why, Sansa. One hand and barely an honor guard for protection, here in the north where his name is more likely to get him killed. Why do you think I let him cross the neck? I knew the man once too, only under different circumstances as you.”

He had disappointed her. “Do you believe me, he won’t repeat his behavior?”

Robb sighed. “I have no faith in that man, Sansa, I have no expectations of what he will say or do. But, I choose to trust you. If you tell me, then I believe it.” Robb hesitated, unsure if he should continue or not. “If he repeats his display in front of others, I can make you no promises. If Jon did not act, I would.”

She nodded in understanding. Sansa looked down at him, Robb sensed she wanted to touch him but did not. He had noticed this before, she tended to use touch when speaking to others. Sansa did it with everyone, the degree of intimacy changing with the relationship. _And now, with me, she hesitates…_

“I would expect no less, it is why I have kept him separated from the rest of the household.” She reached out and began to gently stroke his chest, lightly pulling on the hairs. “Robb, what I said to you, it was cruel. I’m sorry.”

He covered her hand with his palm, stilling her moments. “Cruel or not, I think you meant them. I know you, Sansa. You pick your words with care, your choices were deliberate. Do you deny it?”

“No. I thought to do worse, I wanted to cause you pain. Are you angry with me?”

“I believe we are angry with each other. Am I wrong?”

“I wish I could say you were, it would be easier. I was so certain you would come for me, but you never did. I was in the throne room, Robb, I heard the terms you offered. Tyrion Lannister looked at me with pity, you offered cousins for me. It’s because I was a girl, wasn’t it?” Sansa’s voice grew more strained the longer she spoke, it was painful for him to even listen.

“I should have traded Jaime Lannister for you, I understood that eventually, but then it was too late. We’ve all paid dearly for my mistakes, Sansa, I know that.” Robb paused, sitting up so they were across from each other. “Perhaps, that’s why the gods sent your dreams to you, sent you here, to bring us together as we were meant to be.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Do you believe that?” _More than I care to admit._

Robb took her in, not quite able to meet his eyes. Her hair lay unbound, spread across her back and shoulders, still mussed from sleep. “I believe you had those dreams for a reason and that you have your own magic in you, just as the rest of us do. I know I love you, perhaps more than I should. I know I depend upon you to stop me from making more stupid mistakes.” He laughed. “Don’t tell Jon I said any of this, he’d snort and tell me northmen aren’t meant to be poets.”

The hurt slowly left her face. “I thought you two didn't keep secrets from each other? If one knows, the other will before the end of the day.”

Robb took her hand, placing it on his chest where she had previously touched him. “I would like to make an exception.”

Sansa chuckled, “I’ll help you keep that secret.”

He did not answer, pulling her into his lap instead so she straddled him. He put his arms around her, needing to feel her against him. Robb pushed Sansa’s hair away, baring her left shoulder and face to deliver a series of light kisses against her neck and jaw. “Sansa, will you let me love you?”

“Why do you ask permission as you do?”

“I told you, I learn from my mistakes,” he answered, as he moved lower down her neck, towards her chest. He felt her pulling at his chin, an effort to gain his attention. Robb had no desire to talk further, he placed his lips on hers for a kiss instead, moving one hand to cup her chin and the other he wound into her hair, pulling slightly.

The kiss went on and on, slowly growing more intense as their lips blended and meshed together. Distantly, Robb knew they both felt some anger towards the other, they still needed to talk but in this moment, he did not care. Right now, he only wanted to fuck Sansa, hear her scream and make her beg. He pulled away, taking in her swollen, red lips and the dark pools of her eyes. “Take off your gown, I want to fuck you.”

Sansa gave him a sly grin, reaching down and slowly lifting her night rail off. However, instead of laying down as he had expected her too, she shoved at his chest, pushing him to the bed. He looked up at her, she sat astride his hips, her fingers gently stroking his chest. She reminded him of a predator. “Not yet.”

She slowly moved down his body, licking a path down his stomach, lower and lower, until he felt her tongue against his cock. A single lick of his shaft and she slowly lowered her mouth onto him and began to lightly suck. Robb lifted himself up to rest on his forearms, wanting to watch Sansa as she worked. “Gods...fuck...Sansa...fuck..” He groaned.

Sansa began to suck harder, one hand on his cock moving in rhythm with her mouth as she took him deeper into her throat. Robb laid back on the bed, moving his hands to either side of her face, lightly thrusting into her mouth.

He was close, if she kept going, he would spill in her mouth. Robb began pulling at her, attempting to make her stop. “Sansa, I want to fuck you.”

She slowed her movements, looking up at him before pulling his cock from her mouth with a final lick and moving back up his body. “How do you want me, my husband, my king, my wolf?” She asked, kissing his chest in between words.

Robb looked up at her, deciding. She had called him her wolf, he would take her like one. “Get on your hands and knees,” he told her, pushing her off him. Robb watched her getting into position as he’d told her. “Spread your legs.” Robb knelt behind her, pushing Sansa’s thighs further apart with one hand while the other gently stroked the soft skin of her back.

He slipped into her, tightly gripping her hips as he began to move. Robb started thrusting, setting an almost brutal pace. He could feel Sansa moving back against him, as she moaned out his name in that way of hers. Robb could hear himself panting and grunting as he moved, lost in the slick heat of her.  “I love you, Sansa. I love fucking you. You were meant to be here with us.”

Robb slid one hand around her hip, moving through the wiry curls between her legs to lightly stroke at her bud, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. “Come with me Sansa, let me feel you.” Eventually, her cries grew as he felt her muscles clench around him. Robb lost his pace then, frenzied movements overtaking him as he spilled his seed inside her. “The.death of us,” he murmured to himself, remembering Jon’s long ago words.

He leaned forward, resting his head on the small of her back for a short while, before putting his arms around her as they both went to lay down, her back against his chest. Robb considered going to sleep once again, Jon would see to everything needed, but he dismissed the idea.

Sansa turned around to face him and began stroking his beard. “Robb, I still love you, even when we are upset with each other. You do know that?”

“I’ve never doubted that, Sansa, even when I act like a stubborn fool,”

She gave him a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t say fool, more like pig-headed.”

He kissed her once more, enjoying the moment between them. “Are you ready to repeat this performance tonight? I swear, Jon’s even filthier than I am.”

Sansa looked horrified, her mouth hung open, speechless. Robb laughed. “I love you too, wife.”

Later that morning, he followed Sansa to the same room they had been in the day before. Both wolves were inside, that would mean Jon had already arrived. He opened the door, allowing Sansa to pass through first, and escorted her to the chair opposite Jon.

Listening to the conversation, Robb realized they were talking about Rickon and Tommen, he had not expected that. Sansa’s face grew hopeful, hearing them speak. That worried him, Robb could not feel any optimism over what may occur.

“How do you feel, Sansa?”

Robb knew the real question Jon was asking. “She’s fine.”

Jon snorted, catching his meaning.

‘Jaime, I meant to ask you yesterday. I saw Hos amongst your men. Would you consider letting him stay here at Winterfell? You have no need of him, I would like to return him to his family. _Who is Hos?_

“He’s a hostage to the crown, Sansa.”

“What crown?”

“The one without a king.”

They both laughed, even Brienne joined in. Robb had been certain the woman did not know how.  Watching them together, he realized it was his first glimpse into the friendship that had developed. He had only ever seen the Kingslayer, Sansa saw a man. Robb did not know how he felt about that. _I hate it._

Robb did know he wanted to pick the man dry, drain every bit of knowledge the man had. He needed information on the Riverlands and the Freys, he wanted to know of the Iron Throne and the Vale.

He also wanted to know what Jon had planned for that evening.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took longer than usual to write since I needed to find a way to bring the story back on track and think through Robb for a bit. Rather than wait several more days to include the planned Sansa POV, I'm leaving it here and the next chapter will pick up right where I left the story.
> 
> A big thank you to Jeannettesc for helping me through my Robb block and to Janina who has been so incredibly supportive of me with writing, especially her messages this past weekend.


	22. Finally

Sansa had not missed Jon’s focus on her since she entered the room, Robb’s dismissal of his question had not helped. It felt as if he wanted to bore into her head, pull out all the pieces and parts of her thoughts in an attempt to understand what happened, if his lingering guilt was still warranted. She would see to his worry later, when they were alone. She had made her own choices, had picked her words with care, she would not allow Jon to carry that burden or silence her with it. For so long, Sansa had lived voiceless, forced to temper her words and guard her thoughts. She had chosen to speak, even if it caused pain to those she loved most.

“Who is Hos?” _A hostage turned into a Stark message._

Robb’s question stilled the laughter in the room, a reminder neither he nor Jon were privy to the information she had. Sansa would need to remedy that.

“A Blackwood, and now, apparently, a ward of the Starks.”  Jamie’s words were direct and plain, no hint of mockery to them. Sansa suppressed a sigh of relief, not wanting even an impression of doubt to be seen on her.

“I have yet to meet him, Jon, but I imagine he might be a bit like your friend Sam. He loves to read and will share everything he knows, if you let him.” She intended it to look as if the Starks had been the one to save and return the boy home, it could prove to be of help with Robb’s cause in the Riverlands.

“You spoke of the crown and your king is here. What has happened to the Iron Throne?” Robb had already lost interest in poor Hoster Blackwood. His lips were drawn flat, somewhere between a frown and outright scowl, his brow furrowed. Robb sat stiff in his seat at the head of the table, Grey Wind just behind him  Sansa knew he intended to ask his questions and be done with it all. Likely, there would be no further exchanges between Jaime and Robb once this discussion was over. Sansa knew he would direct her to formally rescind guest right when Jaime leaves. She would take that, and gladly so.

Jaime smirked. “One hopes it’s been melted down into a lovely set of chamber pots.”

Jon flexed the fingers of his right hand, his face twisted in that way it did when he felt the first stirrings of anger. “You did not answer his question.”

“My apologies, your Grace. I believe Ser Jaime means that with young Tommen here, it may prove dangerous for the seven kingdoms,” said Brienne. She stood directly behind Jaime and had kept quiet since Sansa first entered the room. She suspected her friend was both guarding and protecting Jaime. _Thank you, Brienne._

“My Lady Brienne has always enjoyed the role of playing my nursemaid.” Jaime paused, considering. “I’d say dangerous is a mild term but not entirely inaccurate. I returned to King’s Landing to find chaos. The Faith, the Tyrells, and what remain of Lannister forces were fighting in the streets and scheming to control my son.”

“Your son? So you admit to treason then,” said Robb. He did not seem surprised by the admittance, the truth of Tommen’s birth was either known or suspected throughout the Seven Kingdoms, those following the pretense usually did so in pursuit of their own interests. It was satisfaction Robb wore on his face, Jaime’s admittance likely confirmed his worst thoughts about the man. She saw it differently, Jaime placed love of family above either power or the realm. The two men had made different choices, Sansa understood that very well.

“Openly and loudly,” Jaime admitted. “I explained to these two yesterday, I could protect the king or I could protect my son. I chose the boy over the crown, Cersei did not make that distinction. Tommen would have ended either a prisoner or dead, so I stole him away. I’m now a wanted man, it appears my sweet sister did not appreciate my efforts to protect the child.”

“And who controls the crown?”

Jaime continued on as if Robb had not spoken “I have heard mostly rumors and tales since leaving that shit bucket of a city. The Faith has the people behind it, I have heard the Tyrells have fled the city, that Cersei has left for the Westerlands and the Rock and that she still occupies the Red Keep. I do not know which is true. The kingdom is dying.”

Sansa had heard all this the day before. She suspected Cersei Lannister would remain in the Red Keep and fight until the end. Her words to Sansa during the night of the Blackwater had never left her, the anger and bitterness Cersei Lannister felt over being denied what she felt was her due. The woman would rule through fear, demanding subservience and blind loyalty from all, she would not run, her pride would not allow her to even consider it. “The Tyrells have fled, most like. It was Mace that wanted a daughter for a queen, his mother and sons thought it folly. Littlefinger once told me the man would eventually overplay his hand, they can only fight so many battles and win. The Faith, the north, Dorne, the Iron Islands, and the Westerlands, not even the power of the Reach can contain it all alone."

“Dorne?” Sansa had never told them of what she knew, that had been for Jaime. Jon’s question did not surprise her.

“I know little, Ellaria Sand has not been forthcoming with me, but I believe Dorne intends to go the same as the north. Dragons tried more than once to conquer and failed every time, the Tyrells know their history and the Lannisters lack the power to enforce their rule.”

“I see.” Two words from Jon but Sansa understood what they meant.

She had not shared this information with them, they would speak to her of it later, Sansa knew that. Jon had been upset with her for not telling of Alysanne Mormont until the woman was only a few days ride from Winterfell. It had not been a deliberate deception by her, it had been news that continuously fell to the side amidst other tasks that always commanded her attention. Even so, Sansa had been right, if Brienne and the Mormonts could fight, if the wildlings had spear wives, then northern women should have the freedom to learn as well. Even in his anger, Jon had agreed, which meant Robb had as well.

“Sansa speaks true. They have Myrcella, she will finish her days as a hostage.” The letter she had given to Jaime had been a farewell then.

She watched as Jon and Robb leaned towards each other, talking quietly. Sansa heard her name whispered once but that did not particularly concern her. If they needed a moment of conversation to realize what she already knew, it was of no great worry for her. Dorne, the Reach, and all the rest of it was her responsibility. Theirs lay to the north, the wall, and beyond. Sansa was mildly curious which of them would ask her to do the job she had been performing since first returning to Winterfell.

It was Robb. “Sansa, can you find out more? We need to know what this means for the north and what can be done to strengthen ties.”

She merely nodded her head.

“The Vale, what news do you have of the Vale?”

“Ask her,” was Jaime’s initial response to Robb’s question. “She’s the one that put a knife in their lord protector’s neck.”

“It was for the realm.” She could not resist, it was not an entirely false claim.

Jaime laughed, even Brienne smiled. “The realm. You wanted the man to die, Sansa, and we both know it. You watched him bleed out, we were there to witness it, if you will recall.”

“I have not forgotten. The man plotted to bring famine in the name of profit, planned the murder of my cousin, and framed your brother for the death of a king, if you will recall,” she said, placing an emphasis on the last few words. Littlefinger had done all that and more.

“Yes, and by doing so, set my brother and I against each other. Perhaps there is someone who mourned his death but the man meant nothing to me.”

“Nestor Royce did, I would suspect. He granted the man the Gates of the Moon.”

Jaime turned his attention back to Robb. “I can tell you the Vale is no longer remitting taxes to King’s Landing and no one from the Vale has been in the city since the death of Robert Baratheon.”

They had not known about the taxes, that was welcome news indeed. Sansa did not know if she could bring all of the Vale to Robb’s cause but she knew she could bring some at least.

Robb gave a careful smile at this, having come to the same conclusion she did. He had relaxed some, sitting less stiff than he had on their initial arrival. Sansa could feel him though, Robb wanted to gather information and then he would leave.

Jon had been largely silent during the discussion, content to listen and make a study of those in the room.

“Would you have news of our uncle, the Blackfish? I would have him come north if the man can be found.” It had been their uncle who helped save Robb during that wedding, having returned south to offer aid to those in the Riverlands. Sansa had yet to meet the man.

The question pained Jaime for some reason. “No, although I suspect Lord Edmure may, he chose not to share that particular bit of knowledge with me.”

“The man is back at Riverrun then?”

“And with a Frey wife. The Riverland lords, oddly, do not often confide in me, but I suspect some are less than pleased with him over it.”

Robb quietly chuckled to himself. “I almost forced him to marry Roslin Frey as a way to make amends for Stone Mill. He had suggested challenging you to single combat instead.” He drew quiet, thinking on their uncle or the Riverlands or something else, she did not know. Likely, Robb would not speak his thoughts aloud until he was alone with Jon. “The man is not afraid to fight, I will give him that. It is his skill at doing so that I question.”

“Sansa told us you may be able to provide us with wildfire. What can you tell us?” This was a topic that interested Jon. Sansa recalled the council meeting two moons back, he had been eager for it then, Jon had been the only man in the room to witness what would soon be upon them.

She was one of the very few who knew Jaime’s secret, the reasons for his intense dislike of the pyromancers. It was a trust she would not betray, not even for Jon and Robb. “I have some alchemists with my army in the south, I had been keeping them in the Riverrun dungeons, even those proved too luxurious for their needs, or so I thought. Take them, I will give the entire guild to you gladly.”

“The Freys are gone from Riverrun completely as well?” This was the question Robb had been waiting to ask, it may very well have been the primary reason he allowed Jamie to come north. If that was so, Robb would never tell her that.

“The Brotherhood had themselves another bloody wedding, killing many. Their bodies have been found hanging from trees, some have turned on each other. It turns out the small folk are no more fond of the Freys than Tully bannermen.” Jaime paused, allowing Robb to enjoy this news.

He was, Robb’s lips turned up slightly, his teeth were bared, his expression made Sansa think of a wolfish snarl.  

Then Jaime continued, “It is rumored the Frey dead include women and children.” _That is Lannister pride speaking._

It was deliberate, she heard his hidden message. Robb’s lips flattened, his jaw clenched, but his only reaction was a sharp nod of his head. He would give nothing away.

Jon too keep silent but he looked at Robb with concern. Jon could appear cold and distant to those who did not know him well, his expression had not wavered at this news, it had not come as a surprise. He had been with the wildlings, and though he never spoke of it, Sansa suspected he had seen dead women and children before. Ygritte would be in his thoughts now.

Robb ignored the statement, offering no further comment or reaction. Instead, he demanded Jaime go through every Riverlands house, Bracken, Piper, Mallister, and more, pulling every detail of their martial strength. Jon and Robb prodded and demanded, the number of fighting men, cavalry, archers, foot, siege weapons, and more. Sansa had nothing to contribute, she had not considered any of this in her travels home. Her strength lay in knowing the lords of each house, knowing what they wanted and who they were.

Eventually they were done, every question answered that could be answered. It almost amused her, the three men would never be friends or allies, she knew that, yet they had enjoyed their discussion. It was common ground, a shared knowledge between them that did it. Sansa thought some of it rather dull.

The only topic as yet unspoken was Tommen, it's absence only further confirming her suspicions.

The sudden silence pulled Sansa from her reveries, she had paid little attention to their talk. Jon and Robb were rising from their chairs, preparing to leave the room.

Jon led the way with Robb just behind until he stopped at her side and began to gently stroke her hair, pulling it away from her ear.  He bent down, whispering, “Is there anything else we need to know?”

Sansa did not respond, choosing to quietly watch as Robb took the last steps and left the room. _Tommen._

Jaime only smirked at her. “Well, Sansa, how did I do? Is there a prize for my good behavior?”

Several responses went through her mind, each one dismissed. “Your head.”

He laughed.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the shorter chapters in this story and it kinda feels like filler but it's important to the story. I decided to go ahead and publish since it's been a couple weeks since updating.
> 
> I am considering doing a short POV that features only Jaime and Brienne if there is interest in it. The next chapter will all be from Jon's perspective and I'm really looking forward to it.


	23. Jon

Jon knew he looked a fright. Mud covered a good portion of his breeches, he’d ripped the left sleeve of his tunic, and his hair was matted and sticky from dried sweat. His nails had dirt in them and several were chipped and torn. His disheveled appearance could all be blamed on his brother. They had used blunted weapons but Robb had fought with more ferocity than usual, whether it was lingering anger over Sansa or the Kingslayer, Jon did not know. They had both been careful to stay quiet in the training yards, cognizant of the ears and eyes on them.

It was Robb’s turn to work with Rickon that day, so Jon had used the time to escape to the godswood, enjoying a bit of respite before the rest of the day took over. His brother would seek him out soon enough, he did not plan to waste even a moment changing clothes.

The heart tree lay at the edge of the godswood, as far from people as could be while remaining within the castle walls. It was quiet but for the song birds chirping amongst the weirwood limbs up above and the slow creak of tree branches as they moved in the wind. There were days Jon swore he could almost make out his father’s ghost on the edge of his vision and others the heart tree seemed to speak to him, if only he had ears that could listen.

Sansa had come upon him twice while he sat at the base of the heart tree. The first time she’d told him she hoped he found the comfort he sought before leaving but the second time Jon had bid her stay. He’d lain his cloak on the ground and loved her, had told her the gods could serve as witness. She’d responded by saying she’d rather the gods had the good sense to cover their eyes first.

“You’re covered in filth. Best hope Sansa doesn’t see you, she’d pinch your ear and drag you into the bath.” Robb stood before him, looking much the same. He’d have come directly from his time with Rickon then.

His brother moved towards him, his boots making the dirt under his feet crunch as he walked towards the base of the tree to sit. Robb slid down, pulling his knees up and turned his stare towards the white branches above them.

“Aye, she’d likely do the same to you.” There was plenty of time before they needed to clean up, they could hide away from her until then. “I think the heart tree is speaking to me. You think me mad?"

Robb chuckled. “Mad? If you are, then so are the rest of us. Do you still have the crypt dreams?”

“Not since Sansa has returned. You already know of the dreams I have.” He and Robb had been sharing dreams of late, or at least they were similar enough to seem so, armies of the dead, burning bodies, him by a frozen lake with his black brothers around him, Robb alone on his knees in the falling snow. Sansa never featured in any of them, Jon did not know what to make of that.

“We still have time, Jon. Winter is not here quite yet.”

“We will not be here when the child comes, you know that. I may never even see it.” They had shared a glance when Sansa spoke that morning, she’d been happily babbling away and missed it all.

“You will, we would know otherwise,” said Robb.

Jon doubted this. “How would you be knowing that?”

‘Rickon. He’d warn us.” Robb paused to scratch at his beard and glanced at him. “You haven’t noticed?  If your fears were true, he would speak to you. The old gods work through him, have faith.”

“You were always the more hopeful of the two of us.” Robb grew up secure, knowing all the land and titles would be his one day, it had given him an ease and confidence Jon had never shared.

“Not always, no.”

Jon did not agree but kept quiet, choosing to speak on other topics. “Did you bring those letters with you or is your intent to drag me away and back to your solar?”

Robb pulled a stack of papers from the folds hidden away in his cloak “Our bannermen are a demanding people.”

Jon took the letters and began reading through them, speaking as he went. “The Lockes can go hang, tell Manderly to go bugger himself, Crowfood and Galbert Glover can both piss off, tell Lady Dustin she should be grateful her head is still attached to her body.”

He waited until Robb was done laughing before continuing, “Did you want me to write and stamp all the responses as well?”

“If you could do so with a bit more care for your words, I would be most grateful,” said Robb in answer, wiping at his eyes.

Jon grew serious, he understood his brother’s worry, it was the same as his. The north suffered from dead heirs, lands and castles without lords, the free folk to integrate. So far, they had been avoiding all this, choosing to focus on preparations for war but they could not hold off for much longer.  They were building a second naval fleet and a new currency and taxes for the north. Progress had been made on trade agreements with both the Reach and Iron Islands, largely due to Sansa. She had done much to bring food to the north as well.

She was another worry for them too. Sansa had taken on the role of Winterfell steward, had primary responsibility for Rickon, went to winter town on the regular, and often sat at court, more than either he or Robb ever did. Now, she had a babe in her and they would be leaving even more of a burden on her shoulders.

Jon sighed. “Lady Dustin nags at me, she’s an angry and bitter woman. I’d suggest an extended visit here at Winterfell.”

Robb nodded his head. “It would be a great honor from both the king and the queen. Sansa could send the invitation, a visit between ladies.”

“Let her keep a bit of her pride and we can watch over her. I’ll have Sansa see to it.” He paused, reading through Umber’s letter. It was another request for wives, a request Sansa had immediately refused, calling the men rapists and brigands. “I have an idea for the Umbers but you know them better than I ever did. They are each in want of a wife, I say we let them try and steal one from amongst the free folk spear wives. If they don’t behave, the women will cut their cocks off.”

Robb snorted. “I’d enjoy watching that. Who amongst your wildlings could arrange it?”

“There is no arranging, the free folk would laugh you from the room for suggesting it.” The responsibilities for them had been left to Jon for a reason, his brother was still ignorant of their ways and had little patience for learning. It was not the same ignorance displayed by Marsh, rather a matter of time and focus. It mattered little to him, they shared the same goal and that was enough. “Let me see to it. Sansa will agree, I should think.”

“I have not spoken to her about the Manderly betrothal yet, thought we could wait to tell her for awhile.”

“I have no particular desire to tell her either. Another fortnight won’t make a difference and after recent events…” Jon did not finish, Robb understand well enough. “Do you intend to speak to her about Rickon?”

“I’m not a complete fool. No.”

On occasion, Sansa would almost smother the child, practically wrapping him in furs and holding him to her breast. More than occasionally, if Jon were being completely honest. Then, she would push him and Robb to teach the boy, as their father did with them. She would not appreciate their decision to arrange a marriage between him and the youngest Manderly grandchild.

“You’ll be refusing Glover.” It wasn’t a question.

“The man has his brother and heir returned to him, a mill, and new incomes.”

“Beren Tallhart can take the Hornwood lands and the name then. He has the strongest claim through the sister. I’ll take care of this one too.”

“I’ll be refusing Locke as well, he’s an ambitious one.”

“I mistrust him. Too old to make the Winterfell harvest feast yet able to travel for the Boltons.”

Robb nodded his head once again. “As do I. Sansa would know of his family, I wonder if there is a boy of age we could foster. He won’t be able to refuse us.”

“I didn’t see any questions about the Dreadfort. We will need to solve that eventually.” They had appointed a castellan for that castle as well. Absent a lord, incomes were being used to provide food for all of the north.

“Our people are ambitious, not stupid. Did you see the letter from Reed?”

Jon shared a look with Robb, both allowing themselves a moment to grieve. “The army he reports would be the Lannister one. I don’t much care what happens with it as long as it doesn’t face north. His children though, what answer could we give?”

Robb shrugged his shoulders before answering, “I hate to ask it of her but thought Sansa could handle the reply, she’ll word it better than either of us would. We know as little as we did during his visit.”

Jon’s stomach twisted, he had been wanting to ask over Sansa almost since waking that morning. The discord between the three of them had started because of his fit of anger over the Kingslayer. The worry over it had been gnawing at his gut almost from the moment she had left that council room the previous day.

He’d begun to feel anger towards her as well, she’d accused him of shaming her in the same way their father had shamed her mother, it’d been a deliberate invocation of his bastardy and they both knew it. But, Sansa had brought up Arya and Jon felt disgusted with himself. She had been right, it was his other sister he had hoped for when she returned that day, he had been disappointed.

In the beginning, he and Robb had promised each other to be worthy of her, to be good husbands. As time passed, Jon had becoming increasingly certain of the opposite. They gave her gifts and kept their vows but he did not consider himself to be a particularly good husband.

“Did you apologize to her?”

Robb began rubbing at his temples. “Of a sorts.”

“Craven. That’s no answer.”

“She asked if I did so little because she was a girl. How could I tell her yes to that?”

Jon’s mouth twisted. “What else?”

“We said we loved each other, even when we argued.”

“It’s not enough. Our actions yesterday only gave her an opportunity to speak. Her resentment towards us has been with her since the beginning.” Jon paused, considering. “I don’t know how to solve it.”

“No more than I do. I have apologized to her, before the wedding even.”

This was the problem, Sansa was not looking for an apology, she wanted something else and Jon did not know what. He rather suspected Sansa could not tell him, his wife had a knack for ignoring what she did not want to see. She loved them, he knew that, she wanted them in her bed, he knew that as well, her demands for him to undress and put his mouth on her were proof enough.

“She’s with Rickon, I need to go.” Ghost had stayed with her that day.

“I could smell her roses earlier.”

“As could I.”  

He left Robb alone, sitting under the heart tree. His brother sought time alone for prayer even more than he did. Jon quickly washed and changed before beginning his afternoon’s work, letter writing, a review of tax revenues, and working through his ever growing military records.

At their evening meal, Sansa had worn the dress he had requested, her hair loose, falling in waves down her back and across her shoulders. His only comment to her had been a whispered “good girl” into her ear but her pink cheeks and shy smile told him enough.

That night found him in Robb’s solar, stretched across the settee with Robb at his desk, still writing away. Sansa would be the last to arrive, as was usual, she would not make appearances until Rickon had been put to bed.

“You need to work on your letters more.”

“Should I arrange to sit in on Rickon’s lessons with the maester, then?”

Jon laughed. “It may help.”

He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander and drift until a hastily opened door pulled him out of from his thoughts.

Sansa stood in the entry way, wearing a determined expression. She moved quickly into the room until she stood between the two of them. “I did not mean to deceive either of you over Alysanne Mormont. It was not intentional, believe me.”

That was meant for him and Jon knew it. Even as he’d agreed with her, Jon had been angry for not telling them until the woman was three days ride from Winterfell.

She continued on, barely pausing for breath. “Jon, your friend Sam is coming to Winterfell at my request. I once thought to surprise you but have since changed my mind. I am not scheming with Dorne, I only wrote to learn more of Myrcella. Jaime shared all that we know.  Also, I believe Jaime will be asking us to take in Tommen. He has not done so yet, but he will, and I intend to agree. That is everything.”

The room was quiet as he and Robb absorbed all she said. Jon understood what they were witnessing and he despised it, some wounds did not heal so easily as those received from a dagger.

Robb moved his parchments away before sitting back in his chair. “We have not once thought you were deceiving us, Sansa. If that is the impression you have, the fault lies with me. As to the boy, we would not turn him away.”

Some of the tension left her, not all. “Even with who he is?”

“Our quarrel lies with Jaime Lannister, Sansa, not an innocent child. Our father would have done the same, I do not doubt it,” said Jon.

Robb went back to his writing, leaving him curious as to why he was not done, Jon had seen to most of it. He knew Robb would wake the maester if needed to get the ravens sent out at first light. His brother’s determination to finish only served to remind Jon of their need for help. Winterfell suffered as others in the north did, a kingdom to rebuild and too many dead.

“Sansa, will you come and tell me more of Sam?”

He watched her as she moved towards him, intending to sit nearby. Jon reached out, grabbing her arm as she walked past, to pull her into his lap until she sat astride him. He wanted her close.

She grinned at him, guessing at his intentions, and began playing with his curls. “I asked him for help with Highgarden, to help negotiate on our behalf with Willas Tyrell. I suspected they would get on well enough. After, he comes to us, says he may have some information for you. Have I pleased you?”

Jon was very pleased, they needed help and she delivers Sam. “More than you know.”  He slid a had under her skirts, sliding up the soft wool on her legs.

“I still have my stockings on,” she said, tapping his nose with a finger.

“Your stockings will prove no obstacle, believe me.”

Sansa lightly kissed his lips. “Will you be reading me some poetry then?”

He gave her a low laugh before reaching around to pluck at the laces of her dress. “I had something a bit different in mind.”

She moved to the side for him, allowing Jon to pull the laces and slide the gown down her shoulders.

“Seven hells, Sansa.”

“You seemed to enjoy yourself last night, I thought a repeat may be appreciated.”

Jon gazed at her in adoration before pulling her to him for a kiss, his tongue pushing forward to taste and lick at her, before he moved lower, planting soft kisses along her jaw and down her neck. He licked at one of her nipples before lightly blowing on it, enjoying the hitch of her breath as she shivered. He leaned in to suck and gently bite, one of his hands stroking her other teat. Jon moved to the other, repeating the same motion. Her head had fallen back with her eyes closed, lost to the pleasure he was giving her. He smirked to himself, they were only getting started.

He turned his head slightly, calling back to his brother, “Hurry, Robb and I’ll let you have one.” No response was given but he could hear his brother moving around, likely finish up his work.

“You make it sound as if you are a pair of hounds fighting over a kill.” Her hands were at his breeches, pulling up his tunic in an effort to reach the skin underneath.

“No, wolves preparing to share a delicious feast,” he corrected.

“Let me have one? I think not, Snow.” Robb had joined them. His chest was bare and breeches partially untied.

Jon leaned back, content to watch his brother kiss their wife, a hand cupping one of her teats, his thumb stroking her nipple. Jon had told Sansa the previous night how much he enjoyed watching Robb fuck her. He’d spoken to elicit a response, but it was a simple truth and one that had surprised him.

Sansa moved off his lap to stand up. “Help me with my dress.”

Robb pulled the remaining laces and let the gown slide down past her hips, landing on the floor. He stroked her hips and belly. “Our wife came ready, Jon, nothing underneath but a pair of stockings.”

She gave a mischievous laugh, stepping away from her dress and closer to Robb. “I simply wished to save a bit of time before having your mouth on me.”

Jon considered, wondering how far she would go. He rose, standing behind her and lifting one of her legs so it rested on the settee. “How about both?”

Robb looked at him, comprehension growing. Jon only smirked. _Should have thought of it first…._

His brother shifted his attention back to Sansa, “I did warn you, he’s even filthier than I am.” He got on his knees and began licking and sucking at her cunt.

Jon followed, kissing down her back and along the smooth skin of her backside. He palmed her and began to lick at her tight hole, the high-pitched groan that came from Sansa told him she was enjoying it. Robb had one hand on her hip, the other he used on her cunt. They both worked at her, sucking and tasting in rhythm until Sansa’s screams and increasing shudders told them she had reached her peak.

“I don’t know what you did, but I want you to do it again soon,” she murmured, her body swaying ever so slightly.  

He stood up, moving her hair to the side and began kissing her neck before whispering in her ear, “I wanted a taste.”

Robb pulled her away from him, turning her slightly so she could lay on the settee. He was naked now, Jon had not even noticed the man removing his breeches.

Sansa fell back, putting her arms around Robb to bring him down with her. “Kiss me first.”

His brother placed his weight on his forearms before leaning into her to do as she’d commanded. “I told you we’d give a show,” he reminded her before pulling away.

Robb sat back on his knees and placed her bent legs against his chest before entering her. He flashed Jon a feral grin, taking care Sansa could not see it, before beginning to move.

Jon palmed himself and lightly stroked his cock through the fabric of his breeches, feeling a bit stunned. It had been deliberate, Robb had positioned them so he could not join and would be forced to watch. He’d called Jon filthy as well. _So be it…._

He quickly pulled off his boots and tunic, undid the laces of his breeches and small clothes before removing them. Fully naked, Jon approached them and sank to his knees on the floor in order to watch.

He reveled in the wet, slapping sound of their bodies moving together, taking in the sight of Robb’s cock gliding in and out of the pink, glistening lips of her cunt. Jon began idly rubbing his cock once again before leaning closer to Sansa. “You told on me, Sansa, you naughty girl,” he said, just loud enough to make sure Robb could also hear.

She made a mewling sound, looking at him with an unfocused gaze, her eyes half lidded. Jon deliberated. _He called me filthy._ He slid his hand from her neck to one of her teats, squeezing  a nipple before sliding lower to her cunt. Jon stroked at her nub for a minute before sliding his hand lower through the folds of her cunt, just enough to lightly graze against Robb’s cock as he fucked into their wife. “You tasted delicious tonight, Sansa. I wonder what you taste like with Robb’s seed in you. Shall I find out?”

His brother stilled at his touch, his jaw hanging open in shock. Jon gave him a devilish grin, challenging him to say something.

“Robb...don’t...stop,” Sansa moaned.

“Fuck.” Robb began to move once again, thrusting into her with more urgency than before. His face began to redden and his eyes closed before leaning forward a bit to place a hand on her hip.

Jon kept up his pattern, stroking his fingertip against her nub before sliding down her cunt and against Robb’s cock as it entered their wife.

Sansa seized his arm, stilling his movements, before her back arched as she began screaming out through her release. Robb followed less than a moment later, his grunts becoming louder before he stilled and came with a roar.

Jon pulled free of Sansa and began to softly stroke the hair from her face and delivered several light kisses along her jawline. “I hope you want more, love, because I’m not done yet.”

Robb did not move, staying still as his breath slowed and returned to normal. He grabbed her knees, sliding them off his chest and back onto the settee before leaning down to kiss her. “I love you.”

He did not want to wait any longer so Jon pulled her away from Robb, settling her so her legs were spread in front of him. He felt transfixed, Sansa was positively soaked. Jon could see Robb’s seed spilling from her and dripping onto the pink lips of her cunt, some of it catching in her red curls. “Do you want to know what you taste like, Robb?”

“Believe me, I’ve already had the pleasure.”

Sansa grabbed his face, shoving him between her legs. Jon cupped one of her thighs, eager to do as she commanded him. He licked at her nub before gently suckling. He looked up, saw Robb kissing her neck and teats, quietly murmuring to her. It didn’t take long, she was already sensitive from Robb’s earlier efforts. Sansa began to buck her hips against him, Jon increased his efforts, working at her nub and sliding a finger into her slick cunt. She screamed out and Jon felt her muscles tighten against his fingers. He gave her a final lick before pulling away.

A flush had settled over her, a lovely rose shade on her face and down through her neck and chest. Jon loved it when Sansa looked as she did. He pulled away from her, standing up. “Turn over, it’s my turn to fuck you now.”

Jon waited, losing himself in the sight of Sansa moving so she rested on her hands and knees, leaving room for him to take her from behind. He stroked down her back, giving her a kiss against the small of her back, before settling one knee on the settee behind her.

Robb began to pull away when Sansa stopped him. “No.” Jon could not see what Sansa did but his brother rested by her face, his position a mirror of Jon’s own. He could see her take Robb’s cock in her mouth before Robb rested both his hands on her face, slowly guiding her movements.

Jon didn’t wait any longer, slipping into her before gripping her hip and immediately set a fast pace. Every time he pushed into her, Sansa’s body would move forward, causing her to take Robb even deeper into her mouth. Jon loved the look of pleasure on his brother’s face every time that happened. He squeezed her hips more, distantly realizing she would have bruises the next day. Jon quickened his pace further, fucking into her with abandon before stilling as his release came on him, groaning as his seed finally spilled into the soft heat of her.

He let go of her hips, letting his fingers graze along her back as he kissed his way up to her shoulders, content to watch her sucking his brother’s cock. Robb stopped her movements, giving a final jerk into her mouth before grunting and pulling away.

Jon moved to sit down, pulling Sansa into his lap as he did so. “How do you feel?”

She opened her eyes, gazing at him languidly. “You both have a silly habit of asking me that question.”

“We can’t help it.” Robb had gotten up, returning with a cup of water for her.

Sansa took a sip before answering. “Well then, I feel ridiculously wonderful.” She closed her eyes once again, burrowing into his side.

Robb stroked her hair. “Do you want to go to bed?”

“Mmmm...are you asking if I can walk?”

Jon found that amusing. “I believe he’s asking if you want to be carried.”

Sansa closed her eyes once again, giving them a lazy smile. “I think I would like that.”

Robb stood, laughing, and pulled her into his arms, carrying her into their bed chamber.

Jon hurried to follow, glancing at the mess of clothes they had left behind, realizing Sansa still wore her stockings.

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got stuck on my own version of the Mereenese knot with this story. This chapter starts to bring it back on course and the next one will have me ready to move the story forward again.

 Rays of blue-grey light shone through her chamber windows. That morning, Sansa had pulled open the window covers to let in the sun but it would hardly make an appearance that day. Outside, snow had dusted the grounds of Winterfell, a thin, white coat that lay over the grasses and trees and walkways. Winterfell was a castle of grey and white, Stark colors. Once, Sansa had woken to the same, in a castle high in the Vale, but she had not belonged there.

She was still clad in her dressing robe while her maid styled her hair. A morning meal lay on a nearby table, porridge and fruit, plain fare yet it comforted her stomach. It had become her usual habit these past several days.

The heavy, wooden door to her chambers swung open, Jon stood in the entryway, dressed in training leathers and already disheveled. She pursed her lips together in disapproval but said nothing. _A king and hand, yet they would spend their time rolling in mud if I let them._

Jon entered the room and picked up the water pitcher next to her meal, spilling some on his face before using equally dirty hands to wipe, turning the dust to streams of brown water.  

Sansa grimaced in distaste. “Mari, will you have a bath prepared in the lord’s chambers? My husband will be needing one shortly.”

Her maid curtsied in response before quietly exiting the room.

“I should have expected that.” He sat at her table to eat what remained of her food. “I wished to speak with you before the day’s activities began in earnest. How do you feel?”

Sansa considered her answer, she was tired. If she told him the truth, Jon was partly to blame, he had kept her up late in the marriage bed these past several nights. Robb had left Winterfell a few days past and he had taken advantage of his time with her. “A little tired, there is much to be done.”

“We need a steward. You are performing tasks below your station and your burden will only grow in the coming months.” Jon muttered about the lack of ale before pouring himself a cup of water from the pitcher and emptying it.

Sansa picked up her brush, she would need to finish her hair on her own this morning. “I had understood there was no one available, the north lacked for men.”

“That was before. You can look outside the north if need be. “

She breathed a sigh of relief. Jon and Robb had been adamant that only a man from the north could be trusted. She thought it rather silly, counting casks of ale and pounds of floor did not seem a particularly guarded process but had not argued. It was their experiences that had guided their thinking. “If that is your wish, I will see to it.”

She stood, walking to the table and sitting across from him. Sansa grasped Jon’s hand, stroking across his calloused palm “Did you only wish to talk over the need for a steward?”

Sansa could see his jaw clench as he thought over the answer to her question. “Our rooms, I want to change the arrangement.”

She pulled her hand away, could hear the blood rushing in her head. “The arrangement,” she repeated, blandly. Sansa kept her expression even, steeling herself for any instructions he may give.

“I want to take Rickon out of the nursery and place him in rooms of his own.” He pulled the curls back off his face, the hair along his brow still damp from his poorly done washing. “You had said the boy Tommen will be staying here, he can have adjoining rooms. We can’t keep him in the guest house. The both of them are much too old for a nursery.”

“The nursery..” she echoed. Sansa had expected, feared, a different arrangement when he first spoke. She was with child now. “Little Rickon is still a small boy,” she protested.

“Older than Bran was when he witnessed his first execution. Your affections are getting in the way of your judgments. You were the one that insisted we take a stronger hand in his education, it’s past time he learns what it is to be a lord. Rickon will not be a boy forever.”

Sansa nodded her head stiffly, her affections were no mistake. “You think my judgment is clouded, I see.” Jon was wrong in his understanding, she could take a little comfort in that. He did not attend Rickon’s lessons with the maester or talk with him at night before bed. He was ready for the training yard, not for the rest.

She stood, wishing to gain some distance from Jon. It was easier to keep to her courtesy when she looked down on him. “Allow me a few days to have rooms prepared and it will be done. Is there aught else I may assist with?”

“‘Aught else I may assist with?’ Will you now be calling me your lord husband?” Jon’s lips had drawn flat and his face twisted in that way it did sometimes. He was not angry yet.

“Very well, if that is your wish.” _He as well as called me stupid._

His jaw began to clench, the anger would be upon him soon. “Seven hells, Sansa.” Jon threw the cup onto the table where it landed with a clamor, water spilling onto the table. The cup rolled onto the floor, slowly coming to a stop by the door.

“Will my lord husband be requiring further assistance? I have completed all tasks you have given me, everything is ready for your free folk. If it will assuage your concerns, I can review what has been done, lest my judgment be clouded.” Sansa had managed to keep her voice even until the very end, even with all her years of practice, the sharp bite of anger bled out with her words.

Jon stayed quiet, she could see his chest heaving in anger as a silent snarl escaped him. He stood up from his chair, one hand gripping its corner, the knuckles turned white. “I did not call you stupid.”

_You just did, my lord husband._

Sansa nodded her head the barest amount. “I thank my lord husband for helping me to understand.” Her voice was placid that time, she may as well have been talking of the weather.

He began to walk towards her. “Sansa, please don’t do this.”

Mari interrupted further discussion, having returned so she could finish preparing for the day.  

She gave a bright smile, stiff and measured. “Wonderful timing, my lord husband was just ready for his bath.”

Jon eye’s bored into her. She could feel the fires from the rage she had stoked within him. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. He kicked her cup away before leaving the room, closing the door with a loud slam.

Sansa turned back to her maid, determined not to think on Jon for another moment.

*****

Jaime was clad in the same plain brown woolens he wore when first arriving at Winterfell. It seemed fitting to Sansa, even returning south, he still rejected the colors of his house or the kingsguard white.

“Are these guard of yours ordered to kill me as soon as we are sufficiently away from Winterfell?”

He had requested to speak privately with her before departing, back to his army and back to the chaos that lay to the south. She had chosen a quiet walk along the kingsroad, the cool, crisp air refreshed her, pushing away the lingering traces of anger that still lay within her.

Sansa took his left arm, slowing their pace. “I asked Pod to attend and he brought along two men for my protection. We are not related, despite your repeated use of ‘little sister’. They will keep their distance, we shall not be overheard.”

“Yes, your wolf pups would rather take my head themselves. I suppose it’s all to the good your king went and left. I do confess, I’m rather hurt he did not trouble himself with a goodbye.”

_The head still on your shoulders was a goodbye._

Sansa inwardly frowned at the mention of Robb. He had explained the need to visit some nearby holdfasts but she had not believed him. Robb could not suffer the kingslayer at Winterfell, and unable to void his promise to her, had chosen the next option. “I will pass along a reproach in your honor. Now, will you come out and ask or will we continue to avoid the topic?”

Jaime stilled and that Lannister pride left him, all that stood before her was the man she had met in the Vale, the man who traveled with her through the Riverlands. “I want to leave him with you, he’s safer here in this northern backwater than he would be with me.”

Sansa turned to face him, deliberately picking up his right arm to grasp his wrist. “I have already begun to prepare a room for him, next to Rickon. They can even share a bed at night if they choose. Jon and Robb have promised their protection.”

“Oh, of course they would, honorable sons of Ned Stark, the both of them. Poor Tommen will be ruined with all your Stark honor and duty. I suppose there is little to be done for it.”

_He will be made a better man that Joffrey ever was. Two fathers where before he had none._

They continued on, towards winter town. The ground was hard beneath them, the dirt of the kings road packed in from the many carts and horse that had come before. The pines and firs swayed from the morning breeze while flakes of snow fell from the sky, melting on their cloaks.

“May I ask what you intend to do?”

“Is that necessary?”

“Kinslayers are accursed, Ser Jaime.”

Jaime stopped abruptly, checking the proximity of her three guards before shifting his focus to her. His green eyes, so like his sister’s, bore into hers. “Killing a king was my finest deed. Now, I will have the honor of killing a queen.” Those green eyes shone, pained and joyful all at once. “All of Tywin’s children are kingslayers now, it’s become a family trait. Handless and noseless, kingslayers and kinslayers, the both of us. Share that with Tyrion, if you ever happen upon him. Will you do that for me?”

Sansa remembered the morning of Joffrey’s wedding, so long ago now. Tyrion had looked at her with a hunger but she’d had no bread for him. The only affection she had summoned for him had been pity She felt pity for Jaime too. Tywin Lannister, in his eagerness to bring glory to his House, had only succeeded in destroying it. “What of after? I once offered you santuary here.” 

He snorted a dismissal. “In this miserable place? We both know I would eventually be killed by some northman, eager to avenge both Ned Stark and the Red Wedding. Brienne refused my offer of marriage, did you know that?”

She did not, Brienne had not said a word. Sansa considered confronting her friend before dismissing the idea. She would speak when ready. “I was not aware.”

“It’s just as well. Cersei and I were forced to keep our love hidden away for many years, it corrupted and ruined us both. Ruined by one woman and spurned by another.” Sansa could hear hurt underneath the bitterness of his words.

Sansa did not know what to say so kept quiet. It felt as if she was listening to a confession, if Jaime wished to unburden himself, she would let him.

“We destroyed ourselves and took a kingdom with it. You get two men who love you, no point in denying it. They look at you like a pair of lovesick puppies, it’s positively revolting. You can love in the open, with the full support of the north. Mine was in the dark, where it was left to fester and poison.

“Your mother did not think I would fulfill my vows to her. It was Tyrion she pinned her hopes on, not me. Yet, here we both are. I returned you north, brought your sword to you, and completed every task you set before me and I will die a reviled man for it. If there are gods, their sense of humor is a cruel one.

“Raise Tommen to be a good man. You will be a better mother than his own ever was.”

They stood just outside the gate to Winterfell, a few more steps and they would be in the castle once more and any remaining privacy gone. “Jaime, you have your honor back. I know the truth as does Brienne. Tyrion once said life is full of opportunity, give yourself a second life.”

Jaime only took her hand to kiss it through the cold, brown leather. “You were my last chance at honor and you have been worthy of it. Goodbye, Sansa Stark.”

He left her then, walking towards the guest house to make final preparations to leave.

“Ser Jaime…,” she called after him.

His only acknowledgement was a stiff bow before turning away one last time.

*****

Jon sat at his desk, reading through the missives recently given to him by the maester. Sansa had done all they had asked of her. Lady Dustin would be in Winterfell soon enough and Ser Davos had found success at Dragonstone. Manderly would be arranging the man’s passage from White Harbor back to them.It was Sam’s letter that brought him joy, a brief notice that he had left Oldtown and had urgent news to share.

Not for the first time Jon felt tempted to see Sansa out, to apologize for his action yet he remained seated, just as he had each time the urge came upon him. She had behaved as a child and he would not indulge her. _Stubborn and foolish and willful. She would not listen to a word I said._

At the sound of a knock at the door, he bid entrance to a servant who made him aware of the approaching free folk party. Jon did not even know who would be amongst them, only knew their arrival was imminent because of a raven sent by a nearby holdfast. He had deliberately not sent an honor guard, they would not have understood the meaning behind it.

“Ghost, to me.” He snapped his fingers and they left his rooms together, outside to the outer courtyard to await whichever members of the free folk had decided to visit.

Sansa was not waiting for him as he had hoped. They may have argued but he had not thought she would shirk her duties out of spite. The free folk needed to be further integrated and he had a task to set them on. They would resist being made beasts of burden.

Four horses rode through the gate and four riders dismounted, Tormund, Sigorn, Val, and Ryk.

“Har! It is”good to see you again, Crow.” Tormund embraced him with a now familiar exuberance.

“Jon, will you introduce us to our new guests?” Sansa had approached him, Rickon by her side. She was in a new gown, grey velvet and wool, an embroidered white direwolf on her chest with a cloak in matching colors. Stark colors and his wolf. Her only nod to decoration were the hair clips they had given her a few moons back, the autumn red of her lovely tresses streamed wild in the cold wind. She smiled at him, an open smile to show welcome to their new guests. But, it did not reach his wife’s eyes, she had not forgotten their morning.

“Aye. May I present Sigorn of House Thenn, Longspear Ryk, Magnar Tormund Giantsbane, and Magna Val.” Each of the men bowed in response, awkward from lack of practice. Val merely stood still, focused on the walls and buildings within Winterfell

“Well done lad, you went and found yourself another one with hair o’ fire. A good bit o’ luck we’ll be needin’ soon, I fear.” Tormund seemed to grow in height, his chest expanding like an old puffer fish.

Jon inwardly grimaced at Tormund’s passing mention of Ygritte. “I present to you Sansa, Lady of Winterfell and Queen Consort in the North and Prince Rickon of House Stark.” Ghost and Shaggydog framed both of them at his introduction.

“Another wolf, Lord Crow? Are you collecting them here in this stone house of yours?” Val held out her hand, clearly expecting one or both of the direwolves to respond to her but neither of them moved.

“Shaggy doesn’t like strangers until I tell him he can.” Rickon spoke dismissively. His wolf chose that moment to move towards Sansa, sitting back on his haunches. “We’re going to the godswood, Shaggy wants to show Tommen how to hunt rabbits.” He left them in the courtyard, unimpressed with their new visitors.

“I welcome each of you to Winterfell.” She took Tormund’s arm. “Let us go inside, where food and drink awaits us.”

Sansa had not said more to him than strictly necessary. Jon’s anger grew.

*****

Her silence remained for the rest of the day, Sansa spoke to him enough so as not to arouse suspicion but no more. She entertained, and listened to Tormund’s stories with a look of rapture that flattered the old man. At the end of the evening, he had expected Sansa to seek him out after placing the children to bed, but she did not. He had not seen her since the evening meal.

Jon stood in his chambers, the room so rarely used no fire had been lit. The sharp, iron taste of hot blood made him want to ignore her, to run and hunt with Ghost in the wolfswood. The rush of fresh kill and the scent of animal fear went through him, Jon left his rooms in search of Sansa. _In search of my own prey..._

He walked toward her rooms, quietly opening the door and creeping into her solar. Sansa wore one of her night gowns, white silk, as she sat before the fire, humming to herself with a bit of cloth and sewing needle in hand.

“I do not recall giving you leave to spend the evening apart from me.”

Sansa gasped audibly, dropping her needlework on the floor. She stood, facing him. The orange glow of the fire illuminated her body under the thin silk. Jon only needed to decide whether to rip the damn thing off her or merely cut it with his dagger.

She assumed a pleasant expression, genial and courteous. “I do not require your permission.” The bite to her words belied the look on her face.

He came around the chair to stand before her. Jon was only a few inches taller than her but it was enough, he looked down at Sansa using his larger size to intrude upon her space. “You are acting like a child,” he hissed.

“You are acting like an ass,” she retorted. “You come to my rooms this morning to insult me not once but twice.” She began to poke his chest, that amused him. “And now, you repeat yourself again. Leave.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” Jon removed the cloak he still wore, placing it by the fire so the lining would be against their skin. “I came this morning not only to speak of Rickon but to ask for your assistance on other matters. Your  response, despite my protests, was to ignore and dismiss me. As I said, a child, spoiled and willful.” He took off the sword belt he still wore, tossing it behind him, grinning wickedly at her. Jon intended to work her into a lather.

“Your method of asking for assistance is a rather poor one. I lack judgment, but be assured, Jon Snow does not think me stupid.” Her lips curved into a snarl, her look was dismissive. “You are an ass.”

He laughed, low and raspy. “Oh, I’ve been called worse than that. You’ll need to do much better if you intend to hurt me. Try again, please.” _I beg you..._

Sansa grinned triumphantly. “You have the right of it. No mere ass, a bastard, too.” She spoke that word with emphasis, offering up her greatest insult. She’d failed, Jon had been in Ghost, he was on the hunt tonight.

Jon leaned into her, placing one hand on her teat and lightly squeezing. “Oh, I am a bastard, I’ll grant you that. Baseborn with a bastard’s lusts.” He began to whisper into her ear, harsh and steely. “A bastard who ruts between his sister’s legs, a bastard who loves to fuck you.”

“You should not speak to me this way.”

“I’ll speak to my wife any way I damn well please.” Jon pulled the dagger from his belt but she shoved at him before he had a chance to make use of the damned thing, causing him to land in her chair.

Sansa climbed onto him, straddling his hips. “Coarse and vulgar. Crude and dishonorable.”

“Bastards never had much use for honor,” he growled out. Jon took the dagger in his hand, pulling it from its sheath, before cutting down the front of her gown, from her neck down to her waist, pulling and ripping at the fabric as he cut. He threw the dagger, not caring where it landed. Jon took each of her teats in his hands, squeezing in triumph.

“Filthy.” Her look was a challenge.

Jon accepted, biting her shoulder, drawing forth a whimper. He licked across his teeth marks, lettings his lips graze slowly down her chest before taking her left nipple into his mouth and sucking. He let go, breathing cool air to watch the pink skin grow and pucker from his ministrations.

“A filthy bastard, indeed.” He began to leave a trail of kisses up her neck as he spoke. “I intend to take you on this floor, to leave you debauched and defiled.”

He put his hands around her neck, pulling him down to her. Sansa’s eyes were heavy with desire, her chest flushed. He kissed her lips then,  rough and hard. Jon wanted them bruised and swollen from his touch. He pushed his tongue into her, tasting and drawing forth sweet, little whimpers. He left her to draw breathe, whispering, “I intend to leave you covered in my marks and sore in the morning.” As evidence, Jon began to suck at the spot just beneath of the lobe of her right ear, enjoying the quiet hitch of her breath and the sharp squeeze of his shoulders.

“A filthy bastard you may be,” she whimpered,before continuing, “yet I only hear what you intend.” 

Another challenge. Jon shoved her off of his lap, making her stand between his thighs. Her nightgown fell into a ruined puddle by their feet. He grabbed Sansa’s hips, sharply turning her before biting down once more, only releasing his wife at the sound of her high-pitched moan. He gave suck where his teeth marks lay and stroked along her left hip. Sansa would have bruises from his fingertips in the morning.

He turned her back around so she faced him once more, standing as he did so. Sansa’s eyes were blown and her breathing harsh. “Undress me,” he ordered her.

She took a step back, placing her hands behind her back. “You ruined my clothing, do the same to yours.” She sounded petulant, deliberately so.  

He took her hands and placed them under his tunic, letting her feel the heat of his skin against her fingertips. She raked her nails down his stomach. Jon felt his cock grow even harder, almost painful. “Willful.” He grabbed one of her hands and began rubbing it against the hard front of his breeches. “Bastards are known for their lust and fits of temper. You best be careful.”  

Sansa gave him several firm strokes as a response. He bit her other shoulder until he felt her at his laces, pulling them apart. Jon let go once more, giving her hard kisses down her breasts, certain he was leaving what would become a trail of purple blooms in his wake. He helped her take off his tunic and, stepping out of his fallen breeches, led her back towards the cloak he had lain by the fire.

“Filthy and devoid of even the crudest manners.” She kissed him this time, pulling at his jaw as she did so.

Jon kept his mouth on her, lowering them both towards the floor until she way lying down, gazing back up at him. That earlier challenge was still in her eyes. “A bastard fit only for receiving orders.”

He kept his mouth close to hers, letting their hot breath mix together. “A naughty girl who takes pleasure in shoving my head between her legs. A naughty, filthy girl who kicks and scratches at me until I give her what she wants.”

 Sansa’s only answer was to shove and push at his shoulders. He laughed against her neck as he slowly did as she wanted. “There she is. My proper wife who puts her bastard brother between her legs whenever she can.”

She kicked his lower back in response. “Shut up and do what you are told.”

He slid between her legs, shouldering her thighs apart. He kissed the inside of one before biting there too. He’d promised her she would be covered in his marks the next morning and he had meant it. Jon turned his attentions to her cunt. He pulled the folds away, she was already dripping from arousal. He smiled to himself before giving his first lick, moving upwards to press against the bud he knew lay hidden away, circling it, and repeating the motion twice more before licking down her cunt. He came back up and went on the attack, sucking and pressing his tongue at her center, circling one thigh with his arm and squeezing. He kept at it until Sansa began bucking and writhing beneath him. Her moans grew into screams as she began pulling at his hair and scratching at his scalp.

He felt her release against his fingers, a gentle pulse of her inner walls as she stilled. Jon drew away, grinning victoriously. He slid back up her body and kissed his wife once more, wanting her to taste herself on his lips. “You’re as filthy as I am, aren’t you, my sweet wife?”

“You’re horrible,” she answered.

Jon reached down, quickly impaling her on his cock. He closed his eyes and groaned, enjoying the sharp hiss of breath that left her body. “I’m going to fuck you now, Sansa. Think on that, your filthy, bastard brother is between your legs and he’s going to fuck you until you scream.”

“Jon, please,” she whispered in his ear. Sansa wrapped her legs legs around his hips as one hand slid down to the small of his back.

He put his weight on his arms, wanting to see her face, and began moving, hard, fast, and brutal, just as he knew she liked it. The only sound in the room was the slap of their wet flesh as they moved against each other. “Don’t close your eyes, look at me when I’m fucking you. It was your bastard brother you married, your bastard brother between your legs now. How do you like that? The proper high born maid likes being fucked by a filthy bastard. Tell me how much you love it,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. Jon could feel himself growing close.

“Shut up,” she snapped back at him, even as her legs tightened around him, even as he felt one of her gentle kicks against him.

“No. Tell me you love it. Tell me you love being fucked by your bastard brother,” he growled at her. “Tell me.”

“I love you, Jon Snow,” she cried out. Her eyes began to flutter close and her head fell back against his cloak, exposing her neck to him.

Jon continued fucking her, slamming into her with abandon until he saw white light and the breath left his body. He spilled into her with a roar before stilling. His breath still ragged, Jon fell onto her, burying his face into her neck and planting a gentle kiss. He could feel her light strokes against his back, made slick from sweat.

“Gods, I love you too,” he whispered.

Jon pulled himself up and moved onto his back, pulling her onto him so she lay across his chest. He could smell the subtle, floral scent of her hair. “Next time you think I’m dismissing you, slap me back to my senses so we can be done with it.”

She laughed, the hot breath felt cool against his still damp skin. “I won’t hit you. Perhaps I’ll pinch your ear until you're squealing instead.” She nuzzled her cheek against his chest.

“Fair enough. I received several letters today that you’ll want to read tomorrow, I’d hoped to leave it all to you.”

He felt rather than saw her nodding her head. “Jon, stop talking.”

“As my lady commands.”

He picked up a lock of her hair, illuminated against the fire lightning, drawing the colors into a sharper contrast, brown mixed amongst bright orange. “Sansa, I want to tell you something.”

“What would that be?” She sounded tired, he felt a bit guilty at that.

“There is so much that still needs to be done, I try not to think on it much. The war is coming soon, but I’ll be going north and I’m frightened. I’m afraid I’ll never see you again or even meet our child.” He looked down at her and frowned. “Sansa? Are you awake?”

His wife’s eyes were closed, her breathing even. Jon had exhausted her. He pulled the ends of his cloak over them both before pulling her tight against him. It was some time before he managed to join her in sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is Robb and the free folk.


	25. The Free Folk

Robb had spoken briefly to Jon by the stables upon his return to Winterfell. He had arrived via the Hunter’s Gate through the wolfswood deliberately. The kingsroad would have meant an announcement of his presence and Robb did not want that. Jon had sent riders in search of him the day prior to Jaime Lannister’s departure. He’d kept his word and the man no longer had the protection of guest right. The north still honored the practice even if the south did not. He had learned that lesson most cruelly. 

He opened to the door to her solar, the creak of heavy wood and hinges announcing his presence. Sansa sat at her table, clad in a simple dress of blue wool, with her hair in a thick bread. Her shield woman was in attendance, sitting opposite her, a sheet of parchment between them. Robb had missed her dearly. 

Sansa stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the stone floor. “Robb.” Her voice was tense.

“Forgive me, I should have announced myself before entering.” He hesitated. “I wished to speak with you.”

Lady Brienne nodded her acceptance, offering a small bow in acknowledgment before leaving the room. 

“I did not know you had arrived or I would have made arrangements to have food and a bath readied for you.” She smiled then, cautiously, before walking toward him to stroke his chin with her thumb and remove his cloak. “Your beard needs trimming as well.”

This was the very reason he had not provided notice. Sansa would have insisted on greeting him in the courtyard with every proper courtesy, to be followed by the bath and a meal before he could have a private word with her. Jon’s wildlings were here and he needed to speak with his brother as well. It would not be long until they left Winterfell once more. 

Sansa took his cloak, laying it nearby. Robb noticed the bread and pitcher of water next to it. There would be no more feasting in Winterfell yet they had better fare for her than that. “Are you ill?” The laces on her dress were loose.

She grimaced in discomfort. “A bit of upset. It will soon pass.” He could sense her embarrassment. Robb knew some women had stomach troubles when they were with child. Sansa would do her best to hide it from him.

“I had hoped you would tell me your impressions of Jon’s wildlings.” Robb went to sit in one of the chairs by her fire and stretched out his legs. He’d slept on the cold ground the previous night and eagerly looked forward to Sansa’s promised bath.

Sansa joined him, sitting on the nearby padded couch, her knees pulled under. “Jon has more experience with them than I do.”

”Precisely why I wished to ask you.”

She smiled at him. It was sincere and the first one she’d granted him. “There are four. The Magnar of Thenn, wed to Alys Karstark, speaks the old tongue and says little. I believe Ryk is here merely because of his previous acquaintance with Jon. The two I have made a study of are Tormund and Val.”

“Why is that?” Jon had shared with him more than once, the free folk follow strength. Robb had been amused by the idea, entering a council room with an army behind him until he remembered his mother’s warning. He’d dismissed her, japing over his willingness to eat crow and maggots.  Robb had thought an army would keep him safe at the twins and many had died because of it.

“They follow strength. I do not know their history, but Tormund has earned it, by word and deed, I suspect. Val was good sister to their former king, Mance Rayder. It is Jon they owe their survival too, but it is Winterfell that will decide their fate and they know it. How do they protect their people and keep who they are?"

He already knew the answer. “Not both, not as they would wish.”

Sansa reached over, clasping his hand. “I once pictured them as savage and brutal. They are no different than us, Robb. Many of their fighting men are gone, it is women and children who remain.”

“You wish to help them?”

“We must.”

The rest would wait until later that day. Almost, he rose to sit closer to her but changed his mind. “I have something to tell you.” She quickly pulled away with a speed that surprised him. Robb was not sure what to make of that, it was his choice of words she reacted too. 

It made no matter, he pressed on. “You were right, your accusation. I could not admit the truth, but you were right.”

“It was why mother sent Brienne for me, why she made the trade.”  Sansa took his hand once more. “I was a pawn, even to the Tyrells who I once saw as my saviors. Your death meant their gain.”

“I made no effort to look for you either.”

“No.” Her expression grew determined. “You were right to take back the north as you did, this is our home. Thank you.”

Robb understood then. He had apologized once but she had wanted honesty. Sansa had lived in a viper’s pit of liars, it pained her that he would not admit the obvious. “Do you remember when we were young?”

“Are we so old that memories of childhood have grown dim and faint?” She laughed, but he heard grief too.

If one were to count name days, Robb had not been a man for long,  yet there were times he felt as if he’d lived a thousand years or more. “Even as children, my future was to be the lord of Winterfell, the knowledge granted me a security as we grew older. It was not until after you left to go south with Bran still asleep in his bed, that was when I first understood what it meant.” He rubbed his face and temple. “I am not explaining myself.”

“Yes, you are.” She tugged at him.

Robb stood, taking his place next to her on the couch, letting her rest against his shoulder.  “I should not have left Winterfell.”

Sansa snorted. “You should not have.”

“Do you have other news for me?”

“The Vale has agreed to come. Ser Davos comes from Dragonstone, I suspect he will arrive while you are gone. Brienne trains with Alysanne Mormont every day. Lady Dustin journeys to Winterfell. Food from Essos will soon flow into the north. We have a new ward.” Sansa spoke as if she was reciting from a list on paper.

“Tommen. I have seen his skills with a wooden sword, his training has been neglected. He was meant to be a king. Can I assume it is much the same in his learning?”

Sansa sighed. “He has had a noble’s education.”

“But not a lord’s.”

‘Not as it should have been, no.”

“Could I persuade you to join me in that hot bath you promised?”

She pulled away from him, her brow wrinkling ever so slightly.  _ She does not wish too. _ “My hair. I’d like you to cut it for me.” Robb took in Sansa’s features then. She was tired, she looked worn. “I can see to my own bath and food, perhaps you should rest.”

“Not this early in the day, there is much to be done. Would you like to know what game the two boys played yesterday?”

As Robb listened to her stories, it struck him that Winterfell was hearing the laughter of children once more. The thought made him want to weep.

*****

Sansa had selected his clothing for him, a plain leather jerkin and fur cloak. Robb had been surprised, usually her choices were littered with the Stark direwolf on them. It was not until he met the four wilding guests that Robb understood. Jon had shared tales with him of Selyse Baratheon, it was a lesson she had never learned.

Jon wore similar garb yet Sansa had changed to a lavender silk damask. Her braid was gone, the thick locks of hair falling down her back. It was Rickon’s presence that surprised him. She wore a determined expression when entering the room, his younger brother in tow. Jon’s jaw had tightened in response but he had said nothing. Robb wondered about that.

She had spoken true, the wildlings were just men, place a sigil on them and they could be mistaken for members of any house in the north. The one called Tormund was a large man with greying hair that made Robb think of the GreatJon. 

This meeting brought forth memories of him calling the banners so many year ago. Robb had been the Stark in Winterfell then, his father a prisoner in King’s Landing. They had come, one after the other, ready to march south, testing him all the while. His lords had pushed and pulled, demanding plots of lands, new taxes for income, hunting rights, mill incomes, even a bee colony. Grey Wind’s bite had been a show of strength then. Here, it lay in putting food in children’s bellies. Robb found that to be a sobering thought.

Sigorn Thenn eyed them carefully, it was his hair the man studied. He recalled Jon’s words, they considered red hair lucky, although his was a darker auburn than Sansa’s. If Harrion returned north, Robb intended to establish the Thenns further south, sworn to another house if not directly to Stark. If Harrion Karstark bent the knee to his father’s killer.  _ If Harrion had his sister’s wisdom. If... _

“Aye, Crow, we waited, as you asked of us. What d’ye be needin’ of the free folk?” Tormund’s voice was a strong one. Robb suspected he’d make the old stones of Winterfell shake should he ever raise it. 

“Your labor,” he answered.

“Your grace, we have spear wives at one fort and more free folk at another. Tormund here has taken command of another. The free folk have done enough for you.” Val spoke flatly, she was testing him.  _  She wastes our time. _

He looked towards Jon who gave him a half-smile before speaking, “The free folk once stole an Umber maid. We have granted two Umber lords our permission to steal two spear wives.”

“You may expect similar matches in the future,” he finished.

Sansa’s head snapped up to glare at him, a quick narrowing of her eyes before her expression changed. He did not think others in the room saw. She considered the Umber men to be the worst of brigands, as she had told him, often and loudly. 

“Thieving,” said Val.

“Stealing,” he corrected. “We are honoring your tradition.”

Val whispered with Sigorn, no doubt telling him of what they spoke of. The man’s eyes bored into him. He was married to Alys Karstark, Robb had met her once or twice. She would have told her husband all she knew of Winterfell the north. 

“The free folk will also begin timber production. We expect all those over the age of thirteen not in service at one of the night’s watch castles to work on the cutting, removing, and transportation of timber. The work will be spread from Last Hearth to Deepwood Motte, Bear Island, and down to Torrhen’s Square.” Jon spoke plainly.

“Each House has small folk who will aid you. Castle guards will teach how to create fire arrows and distance weapons.”  _ From free folk to beast of burden. Yet, they will live.  _

“The free folk are no kneelers, Crow,” said Tormund.

“I am not asking for your knees on the ground. I am demanding your labor.”

“Our numbers include many widows and those with young children.” Sansa had spoken correctly, then. The Lady Val worried for her people. They were south of the wall, no coin, food, or weapons, beyond what was provided for them.

“They will be fed and provided for, every one. I give you my word, Magna Val, bring them here to Winterfell, now, before the white raven comes.” Sansa appealed directly to the free folk woman, deliberately avoiding both him and Jon. 

“To keep as hostages?”

“No. The Starks have long offered the security of winter town to our people, I am extending the same to you. The free folk are part of the north now, whether you will it or no. We have wheat, oat, and corn from the Vale. Fresh fruits and vegetables from elsewhere in the seven kingdoms. More has begun to arrive from Essos. We are harvesting fish and crab before winter comes. Help us preserve it. Help your own people to survive,” Sansa directed. Her ferocity stirred him. 

Robb studied her. Sansa’s skin had grown paler and a grimace had slipped onto her face a time or two. She did not look well. 

None of the free folk could give an argument to Sansa’s offer. The rest was details. Robb had little knowledge of their people, of clans, or villages or tribes. He wanted them kept together but the work needed doing and winter would be here all too soon.

Sansa rarely spoke. He was tempted to dismiss her from the room but knew his offer, even one meant in kindness, would be refused. 

Finally, the council came to an end and the wildlings left. 

“Sansa, can I go now? Shaggy keeps asking when I can come play. He wants to frighten that old man.” Rickon ran from the room without bothering for an answer. His younger brother had not listened to any part of the meeting. He had climbed under the table, on the table, snitched a cup of ale, and stolen a dagger from the one called Ryk. Sansa had made no effort to correct his behavior and  Robb was not sure what to make of it. 

The door had not yet shut when Sansa took the nearest pitcher of wine and promptly emptied the contents of her stomach. She blinked back tears as mortification came over her. Sansa was meticulous in her appearance and refused all discussions of the body, they were even  forbidden to mention pissing in her presence. This is what she had attempted to keep hidden from him earlier.

Robb stood to pull the hair from her face. Jon placed her cup in her hand. “You need rest.”

Sansa placed her hand on her brow before closing her eyes. “I have spoken to the maester, there is nothing to be done. It will pass.”

“Surely an hour will make no difference. Please, Sansa,” Jon pleaded.

She eyed him, considering. “One hour. I expect to be woken.” Sansa merely patted each of their cheeks in turn before leaving. 

“Can I ask what happened while I was gone?”

“We...argued.”

“Over what?” Robb was not entirely certain he believed that.

“Rickon. I think his presence was meant to show me I was wrong.”

He suspected there was more but he did not push. Jon had his own relationship with her. “When should we leave?” He sat back down, putting his legs on the table, and took a sip of ale.

“Four days. Enough time to pack supplies and say good bye. I”ve selected which of our men will accompany us already. “

“The wall and then the mountain clans.”

“Then we gather the men.”

_ Then we march. To war and death.  _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For varying reasons, I have no further plans to continue this fic. I'm leaving this up since there are a few people who seemed to enjoy it. Sorry!


End file.
